Along the Razors Edge
by Nightheart
Summary: They say that the past can come back to haunt you; when it concerns the past of one Trowa Barton she's brought a laundry list of Trouble along with her and she's taking the Preventors for all they have. TBxMU!
1. Bounty Hunting and The Mission

Midii Une pounded on the door of the second room loudly.

"Alex, Jason, you'd better get up and get ready for school! I mean it this time, if you keep sleeping you're going to be late. And I need your help with the chores later today so don't go anywhere," she ordered.

"Michael!" she called pounding on the third door. "Michael, come on you have to get up too. Let's go, up and at 'em, or do I have to get out the bucket!"

Her threat was met with a series of groans emanating from the other side of the door. She nodded to herself in satisfaction. Boys would be boys, she went through the same routine every morning she was able to stay at home. She found it oddly comforting in a way, too bad she couldn't stay there all the time.

She made a polite knock on the door at the end of the hall.

"Father?"

"I'm awake Midii," came the voice from the other side. Hoarse and raspy but Midii held out the fragile hope that today there was a slight difference. Was he perhaps feeling a little stronger? Was that an extra note of vigor she heard in his voice?

"May I come in?" she requested. She was always careful to request. Her father, a proud and independent man who had once been so strong and provided well for his wife and children, was sensitive about his condition. He was an invalid now, a withering husk of the great man he had been. She always waited until he was fully ready to greet her or anyone else before she entered his private chambers.

"Yes, daughter," he said. Her father sat there in his wicker chair, with his flaxen hair neatly combed and tied away out of his face. He had large expressive blue eyes the color of the sky on a clear winter day. She had inherited her eyes and her hair from him, but her features were purely her mothers, a stubborn jaw and full lips that were more often than not pulled into an expression of proud willfulness. Her fair facial appearance, once rounded by a child's baby-fat, had melted into fine graceful features; high cheekbones, slim waist, willowy limbs. Her body retained a look of fragility about it, being slight and feminine, but the young woman herself was about as fragile as tempered steel. She'd have to be tough to survive, nay prosper, in her profession. If indeed one could call barely being able to keep the bills paid and her family fed as well as make the payments on the enormous debt she owed prospering.

"Hello father, I trust you are well today?" she said as she began making up his bed and collecting his laundry.

"Yes, I'm feeling much improved," he said. They went through this routine every morning she was able to be home and running the household. Her father was an optimist; he truly believed that he was going to get better. Midii hoped it was true in a vague sense but she couldn't really bring herself to believe it. She had lived with her father in the condition he was in for too long to really picture him any other way. He was frail looking, thin and bony, with pale skin like fragile white parchment. When he coughed the coughs wracked his body and left him shaking with fatigue for minutes afterward. There were days when he was too weak to leave his bed. On those days he'd be "just resting, just gathering his strength for the final push." 

While father continued to wait for his final push into recovery, Midii went out and found ways to make money so the family could keep eating as well as pay off the huge debt she owed the Consortium. It was an enormous debt too. When her mother had first fallen ill and they had taken her to the hospital, father had had enough money to make ends meet from his small fishing business off the coasts of their village, but as her condition worsened the hospital bills began to rise. Her father had suffered a bad season and lost one of his boats (captained by his brother) in a storm, with the effectiveness of his business halved and the bulk of his savings going to cover medical expenses, Tory Une was hard pressed to keep his family afloat. 

That was when Sharry Une's condition had taken a turn for the worse. Midii had been eight at the time but she could still remember visiting her mother in the hospital and how she had looked to thin and delicate lounging back against the pillows. The Consortium, the local equivalent of the Yakuza, had come to her father offering to loan him some money to cover the suddenly increased hospital bills, saying he could pay it all back in another year. Her father had taken them up out of desperation, his wife was getting sicker by the day and the hospital could ill afford to keep her when there were so many wounded drifting in from the fighting going on in their small country. He had ben afraid they would turn her out to die, so he'd taken the Cosortium's loan hoping that he could make a good haul that year and be able to pay them back in full so they couldn't collect interest. It had been another bad year. They had not only not been able to pay off the debt to the Consortium, they hadn't even been able to make the payment on their house, a large ancestral abode that her mother's family had lived in for generations. Father had thought he might have to take out a lien on the house in order to cover the rising medical costs (Midii remembered being awfully damned sick of eating fish that year) on top of that he had broken his leg taking through a storm that year and had been laid up, but the Consortium had generously offered to extend the time on the debt in exchange for a minor service, an act of good faith really. 

The rebel army and the Alliance had come cruising through her village battling and destroying and generally making large mobile nuisances of themselves. The Consortium had taken out a contract on the rebel army on behalf of the Alliance and they needed someone no one would ever suspect. If someone would become a spy for them they'd be willing to cut off half of the debt that Midii's father owed them, of course Midii's father couldn't do it seeing as his leg was busted but surely someone in the household… Their eyes had all fallen on Midii, with her cherubic pretty little face and sky-blue eyes no one would ever think could do any wrong.  Midii Une, ten years old and already having spent the last year and a half at odd jobs or with the fishing boat trying to earn money to help feed her family and pay off the hospital and the Consortium, had stood up and declared that she would take on their job but she wanted five hundred dollars in addition to the halved debt. They'd haggled a bit (Midii recalled the agent looking vaguely amused at her boldness) and she'd gotten three hundred fifty. 

It had been the start of a long and difficult road for her (her mother had died somewhere along the way). The Consortium had taught her the way of the spy, how to use her looks and innocent appeal to charm her way into a group by looking lost and frightened so they'd take her in. Her missions were clear and her objectives simple; locate a rebel camp infiltrate and transmit the coordinates with her handheld, and pin a transmitter on one of the soldiers so that the Alliance could track the movements of the main fleet. After the first mission the others weren't so bad. The pay was good and got better as her skills improved. Midii improved very quickly. Unfortunately, no matter how much she made, the debt kept climbing because every time she was late with a payment the Consortium raised debt percentage rate by ten percent. She wasn't always able to find a job that paid enough on time and the debt percentage she owed kept climbing, pretty soon she owed close to four times what the original debt was worth before she caught on to their game. The reason she couldn't always find work when she needed it was because she'd always gotten her contracts via the Consortium, they were deliberately withholding jobs from her so she'd get deeper and deeper into debt. After an encounter with a nameless boy-soldier Midii lost her taste for the spy game, she decided to strike it out on her own and chose another field…

Bounty Hunter. It paid a lot better, provided that she could catch and behead the little buggers before someone else beat her to it, There her work as a spy came in handy. She could infiltrate traveling-databases and security networks to locate the last known sighting of her prey, she could also keep tabs on the movements of her rivals. She grew proficient at the job over the years; her young body had been honed and perfected into wiry whipcord toughness by daily practice of the martial arts, her reflexes were faster than thought itself. Shrewd, cunning, she worked alone. Using her portable palm-top (a must for any Bounty Hunter) she constantly checked the Lists, looking for ant new or old hits worth her time to hunt down. She chose based solely on the amount of money offered and once her target had been selected she hunted it down with ruthless efficiency. Once she found it (and she had never once failed to find the target) she struck swiftly and with deadly accuracy, the head of the target was usually stored safely in a cryo-box within an hour. 

She could kill as easily as some could draw breath now and she rarely ever came back from a hunt empty handed. She had trained herself at a young age to push aside her guilt, it was necessary as a spy. If she'd allowed herself the luxury of feeling the immense remorse for every life that was ended as a result of her actions she'd drive herself mad. So she's taken the practical approach, they were soldiers and knew they would die because everyone died; she needed to money from the job to feed her family. It was a war people died. They killed others for their beliefs, for their country… she killed them for money. These were facts. Maybe they weren't pleasant but in a war only the strongest made it through alive. In her life as a bounty hunter, she still didn't feel any regrets about the men she killed. Her early training and philosophy still stood; never to regret a kill. Those people were scum, she was doing the world a favor. Evil had no rights. They were criminals and murderers, the money she made from their deaths would enable her family to go on living. On occasion she took on other work, infiltraitor, information dealer, professional assassin, thief of artifacts, but only if they paid her well enough. The occasional contracts she took from the Preventors made her feel oddly good inside but she couldn't afford to work for them regularly, they didn't pay nearly enough. Still, she was all for augmenting her usual bounties with some salt from the Preventors when prices and good hits got lean. All in all, things were just barely squeezing by. She had been back at her home for a week to recuperate from a long stint of hunts out in space but she really should get started looking for more work. The bills and debts wouldn't pay themselves.

"You are… leaving so soon?" he father questioned delicately. He hated to see his only daughter forced to go out and kill in order to support their family. As the father and head of the household Tory Une felt it was his responsibility to support the family, but there was no way he could in his present condition. Some days it was all he could do to get out of bed and they both knew it. Midii was strong like her mother, but Tory hated seeing his daughter grow colder year after year as she lost more and more of her heart with every person she killed. 

"Yes. I should be back soon with more money," she offered hopefully. "The last run was only enough to cover this semesters share of the debt, I still need to get money for food and to pay for this house. Those don't cost nearly as much so I should be back soon."

"I hope so Midii, we all miss you when you're gone," her father said quietly. 

"And I miss you all when I am gone. Try to make sure the boys don't burn down the kitchen or get into trouble with old Oji while I'm gone," she said with a little smile. 

I never feel regret, even though I must carry this family on my shoulders. I never regret any of it because I love them all so much. I don't care what happens to me, just as long as my family is safe, she thought with a final kiss on her fathers cheek she went to double check her gear before she went back to her other life.

She was quite famous in the dark seamy underworld that collected thieves, murderers, whoremongers, druggists, crime syndicates, mercenaries, spies and yes, the Bounty Hunters who preyed on them all. A lot of the same rules that had been taught to her when she was a spy still applied to her life as a bounty hunter. Trust no one, never reveal your weaknesses, love no one for they can be used against you, be ready to turn against your own best friend in order to survive, be ready for when they do the same thing to you, always have an escape route handy, never reveal all of your weapons, sleep in your armor, treat your own wounds, never take anything for granted, watch out for shadows, work alone, never turn your back to the entrance… the list went on and on. But Midii lived by three main ones; trust no one, never reveal your weaknesses, and work alone. Her family was one hell of a large weakness, a chink in her otherwise perfect armor that someone could drive and entire fleet of mobile dolls through. Hence, Midii Une was not Midii Une when she was a bounty hunter, she became Shadowblade. Shadowblade was a legend; a ruthless man-slayer who could melt into the night itself and the only sound his victim would hear would be the sound of a blade biting through the flesh of their neck. Shadowblade was death in the darkness. It was said his sword had taken the lives of hundreds of men in the still shadowy darkness and introduced them all to everlasting night. He was silent, deadly, and once he had someone targeted he never rested nor slept until that person was dead by his blade. He was as inevitable as the night itself. He was never heard coming nor leaving, but left behind only a headless corpse and blood pooling on the floor.

Midii Une hid behind the mask of Shadowblade to protect her family. If anyone had ever gotten wind that Shadowblade had people he cared about, she had no doubt in her mind that she would come home to find them all slain. She couldn't allow her lifetime full of hard work, bargains, betrayals and slayings to come to naught. Besides, there were still places in the underworld she lived and hunted in that was too dangerous for a known woman to enter. Midii had no desire to wake up imprisoned in a cell in a bonkshop being sold to the highest bidder. She had heard that those who ran those houses for illicit pleasures had ways of making even the most fierce compliant and she didn't want to know what those ways were. She'd also knew that there were men, and sometimes, women out there who had very peculiar and unusual tastes; a warrior with a high pain threshold would last longer than most and so probably fetch a good price. No, Shadowblade was a man; a very dangerous and heartless killer of a man. Fortunately for Midii, she'd never be busty so she could fit the part well if she hid her curvature behind her protective body armor. No one would ever suspect the masked bounty hunter Shadowblade and the delicate-looking Midii Une were one and the same.

It's almost time to get to work, she thought, scrolling down the list of likely targets she had selected previously. Ten names, each of them worth at least a thousand Uni-Sphere Credits. That would be enough to feed her household and cover the bills while she was out hunting for more to pay the next debt payment.

* * * 

The man who was called Trowa Barton in the year After Colony 199 was not quite the same young man who had helped put down the Barton Army in After Colony 196, nor was he quite the same young man who had fought so skillfully for the colonies in after colony 195. He certainly wasn't the same boy who had been called merely No-name by the mercenaries he had fought with for as long as he could remember. For one thing, he had family now; a nagging, overprotective but affectionate older sister named Catherine who on occasion liked to throw knives at him, but only while there were people watching, who was always happy to haul out her soup kettle and whip up a fresh batch of stew whenever Trowa might find himself hungry (or more likely pour the stuff down his throat at the merest hint of a sniffle) or always look displeased and worried when his old comrades from the wars showed up. For another thing, he had friends. Real fiends; that was something No-name had always been too empty for and the Gundam Pilot Trowa Barton had been too distracted to appreciate. Heero Yuy, the pilot he was probably closest to understanding was usually willing to listen to what he had to say, he even offered sage advice on occasion. Duo Maxwell, easy-going and friendly but death incarnate when roused to battle, was an unbreakable tie as he seemed to see himself and the other pilots as another version of the close-knit street gangs he'd grown up with. Quatre Raberba Winner, kind-hearted and gentle with the soul of an artist and the steel will of a warrior, was probably his closest friend of all the pilots the first he'd met they shared a strange common understanding of the way the universe worked. Then Wufei Chang, with his inflexible sense of honor and his black and white way of looking at the world, they were both accustomed to fighting singularly and found working as a team unsettling (all of them except Quatre and Duo that is) but Wufei often cut out all that chatter nonsense and got straight to the heart of things, Trowa liked that about him. Friends and family… if he was able to go back in time and tell his former self No-name about how full and wonderful his life now was, he very much doubted that they young boy with the empty eyes would believe him. No name never felt anything, pain anger, sadness joy love regret all were closed books to the apathetic young soldier. 

So perhaps being a clown was a rather ironic career choice given his quiet personality and general lack of clownishness but he found that life at the circus suited him. He was part of something. They were a group of people who had no allegiance to any land or country and no ties but to each other; no home but the road. They were modern day gypsies who brought laughter and life to otherwise boring out of the way places, who treated the hearts of young children to wonder and amazement. Even Trowa felt special when he looked out at the audience and saw the smiling faces of young boys and girls who had never known a day of battle or the threat of war. And that was what he'd fought for. He'd fought to protect the colonies, he'd fought to end the war so no other children would grow up alone and empty, nameless and holdless like he had been.

To that end, he still took the occasional job for the Preventors (over his elder sister's very loud and vocal protestations) usually when all the other reserve agents were already otherwise engaged. He had a special com channel in his trailer with a line that went directly to the office of Lady Une, the head of the Preventors. If he was needed, she would call. Trowa hadn't answered a summons since A.C. 199, that had been two years ago. He and his old comrades still kept in touch, due mainly to the concentrated efforts of Duo and Quatre (the most sociable of the group) but they hadn't all been together on a mission since the tiny little dust up in A.C. 197 ((A.N. the terrorist attack left unfinished in Episode Zero, anyone reading a Trowa and Midii fic has probably read or at least heard of it anyway right?)). 

That was why it came as such a surprise when one morning, out of the blue and completely unexpectedly, the com unit started bleeking at him. Puzzled, Trowa answered it promptly to see a tired and harried looking Lady Une staring back at him. When he had first met the good Lady she had been the heartless and cold Colonel Une, a woman who would use any means necessary to further the ideals of her commanding officer Trieze Kushrenada and underhanded tactics were not a problem for her. The woman who sat on the other end of the line was vastly different; kind yet firm, gentle yet with a core of unyielding strength… she was still willing to do whatever necessary to ensure peace but her shall we say enthusiasm was tempered by restraint and caring. She saw her agents as not just soldiers, but as being part of those whose lives she would have to protect. The grief brought on by Trieze's death still lingered around her eyes, but the Lady had strengths of her own. All in all Trowa respected her now in a way he never had when he had been her little golden boy pilot under her in OZ, infiltrating and spying on the organization. She opened without preamble

"Agent Smoke, I need you down in HQ immediately. I'll brief you when you get here," she said.

"I'll find someone to cover for me. I'm on my way," he said shortly, cutting off the link. He had already finished his chores for the day and Cathy could throw knives at anyone who could stay still long enough. He went to find the manager. 

A scant few hours later (most of that time was spent in calming down and reassuring his older sister) Trowa found himself with a carisak over his shoulder standing at the gate to Preventors HQ. It had once been a military headquarters but it had been refitted into the main base for the Preventors. The complex was roughly triangular in shape, the right point on the triangle held the main administrative center, it held the offices where the Preventors filed their reports and kept their files and were briefed for missions as well as several rooms for conferences (which would be converted into "war rooms" should the need arise) as well as the main communications center and the offices for the liaisons to civilian security. The left point of the triangle held the auxiliary and supportive services… the vehicle garage, the airstrip, the main armory, the back up systems generator, maintenance and such. The third arm was the "civilian arm." That was where housing and barracks, the PreEx (store), the commissary, on-base theatre, gym and other niceties and perks were contained. Trowa headed straight to the brain of the HQ. Une would undoubtedly be expecting him.

He'd been right, as soon as he walked down the hall he was waved on into the office by her administrative assistant.

"Three hours and fifteen minutes mister Barton," she said in her cold I-expect-better-of-you 'colonel voice,' but there was an underlying tone of humor in it. "Your sister must have been particularly reluctant to part with you this time… did her last assistant lose his nerve?"

Trowa chuckled quietly. His older sister's protectiveness of him was a running joke among the Preventor Elites(which consisted of the five Gundam pilots, Zechs, Noin, and Sally). Quatre had found himself on the bad side of it a time or two and kept inquiring whether she had actually meant it when she said he was welcome to stand in for Trowa any time but not to expect to come out of the experience a whole man (but he had twenty nine sisters of his own so he couldn't throw any stones). Wufei had said that the threat of death by souping still made him wake in a cold sweat some nights, yes, even Wufei had a sense of humor, however dry. Heero, the smart one, usually passed messenger duty onto someone else so he'd never had the chance to encounter Trowa's famed elder sister.

"You summoned me here for a reason?" he inquired, getting down to business now that the greeting chit chat had been observed.

"Yes. I have my usual agents out in the field right now and can't remove them and most of the Elites who would normally take the job are already out on assignment."

"Oh?" he queired, his expression inviting further comment. It wasn't like Une at all to stretch her forces to thin, especially in these apparently peaceful times.

"Duo and Hilde are keeping an eye for space pirates along the usual trade routes from their sweeper vessel. Wufei and Sally are investigating rumors of a secret weapons bunker in the Peruvian Rainforests. Quatre is keeping en eye out in the upper echelons of society for trouble there, Dorothy may or may not be helping him out… it's always so hard to tell with her. And Heero seems to be desperately trying to keep pace with Relena Darlian, who, as we both know gets bounced around between Earth and Space like a human pinball."

Trowa made a small noise that could have been taken for a laugh. Out of the five of them, he and Heero were the most alike; both soldiers who had been fighting for as long as they could remember both quiet and effective (although Trowa liked to think he was better at infiltration than Heero). Both of them, apparently, preferred difficult and challenging women. Relena'd had a career and an entire life built purely on her own merits with no help from anyone for roughly five years she had a doctoral degree (earned between all of her other duties) a high ranking government position, and a sense of purpose without any mere man to give her one; then his comrade abruptly showed up out of the blue and appointed himself her personal guard. According to Lady Une (who had gotten the complaining phone call of his incredible high-handedness) he hadn't been received very well by his headstrong and independent love interest. She had tossed him out on his proverbial rear after giving him a verbal upbraiding that had left Une in tears of mirth. Relena was certainly not some pretty fool to be swept off her feet while Heero played Prince Charming. And Heero was having to work hard for every inch he got with the willful, self-sufficient, and proud young minister. The entire Preventors office was following the story like housewives follow their favorite soap operas.

Trowa got straight to the point.

"What is the assignment then?"

"I need you to track down and apprehend someone for me," Une said briskly. "This person was heavily involved in the formation of the original Operation Meteor, as well as the gathering of White Fang under Quinze, and the gathering of the Barton Army under Dekim. It is rumored that he manufactured a great many of the parts for the mobile suits and had a large hand in the lunar base factories for mobile dolls and that was how he made his fortune. Heero has been able to ascertain that his money went to a large number of different banks and accounts and that even though he is now a fugitive from justice, with his contacts in the underground he has been able to make a clean escape. If anyone would know where any further hidden weapons bunkers might be it would be this man. Unfortunately, he is a very crafty person. I need him brought in for questioning."

"I see. Is there anything further that I should be aware of?"

"Yes. You're going to have a little competition on this particular hunt. You see, Jeric Kaneda incurred the wrath of a man even more rich and powerful than he (no, it isn't Quatre) and as a result there is a sizable bounty on his head. Every bounty hunter in the area is going to be looking for him, and if they find him before you do they'll kill him and we won't get the chance to question him for what he knows."

"Understood. I'll begin my search immediately."

"Your file contains all the information we were able to gather on the elusive Mister Kaneda including his known fighting style, be careful he is known to use poison-tipped darts and blades. We've already narrowed the search parameters down to three likely prospects. One on Earth and three in space. There's a shuttle standing by, you can hit the spot on Earth first and if you don't find any leads, refuel and head up into space. Good luck and god speed."

"Thank you."

With that Trowa headed out to the nearby airstrip and was swiftly on his way to Hanjok, on the south eastern end of what had once been Singapore. Research had indicated that some of Kaneda's old contacts were still there. If the man were running out of cash (as he surely was if he had not been able to make any more of his own) this would be a good place to launder his money with no questions asked. In a lot of places in Hanjok, no one asked any questions… it was bad for business.

* * * 


	2. Shadowblade and Silent Watcher

There you are, she thought triumphantly. 

Midii was now Shadowblade. Her body encased in tight armor but with loose-wrap clothing to hide her figure, her face well hidden by a dark ninja-style scarf wrapped securely around her face, head and neck. Her hands and forearms were protected by gauntlets which also served the double purpose of sheathing several small, well-balanced throwing blades. She also wore brass knuckles over her gloved hands with small points on them. Her upper arms also had armbands with hidden knives and a thin wire garrote. And that was merely her arms alone. She had more weapons secreted about her body. She had an illegal handgun with a silencer on it strapped to her thigh with its mate in a shoulder holster, a small plasma weapon hidden in a holster at the small of her back, over it hung a large projectile plasma rifle with laser guiding and a detachable semiautomatic slug thrower just in case she missed with the plasma. The straps across her chest that held the gun and her other weapon in place were covered in either extra rounds of ammunition or extra throwing knives. She also had a sharp, deadly kodachi slung across her back and it was that weapon she used to take the heads of her prey so that she could store them in a cryo box to be preserved so she could collect her bounty. Her belt also held weapons as did the tops of her boots and the armor protecting her thighs and knees and even the pectoral armor that covered her breasts. She was deadly from head to toe.

She watched her intended prey, a degenerate general from the wars who had sent his men out to die on purpose under the pay of a mobile suit factory. The more suits that were lost, the more the military had to buy to replace them. The General had gotten a cut of the take, but now his old business partner in that particular strategy wanted the man who knew too much to be eliminated. That was fine with Midii; the man was going to reward her handsomely and she intended to kill her employer soon after, for there was a sizable bounty out for his head due to his having cheated another business chum of his from all of that other guys ill gotten gains. 

"Mary-Lou, Mary-Lou, I can't go on singin' without you…" the soon-to-be-corpse sang drunkenly as he stumbled out of the bar he'd just spent the evening in. 

Heh, he's accompanied by bodyguards, she noted as she slipped from shadow to shadow, watching her prey, and waiting. The night was her ally as she silently picked off the four guards one by one. The first had strayed from the light of the street lamps while his friend's backs were turned and Shadowblade covered his mouth from behind and snapped his neck. There was no room for mercy in this game; these men would kill her in a second if she didn't do it first. They earned their money their way, she earned hers her way. They were weaker than her and not aware enough so that was just how it went. The second body guard managed to get out a muffled sound before the tips of Midii's fingers found the sensitive spot just under and behind the ears and sent a long sharp metal spike into it; she didn't want to waste any of her knives on a mere body guard. The third and fourth were alerted by now so Shadowblade made short work of them. The long knife at her right thigh slid cleanly up into guard number three's chin, all the way up into his brain before she removed it and plunged it into guard number four's throat. A small gurgling sound was all he made as he joined his compatriots on the ground. 

Midii wasn't certain if she should feel pleased or a little disappointed that the General never knew what hit him. 

A scant minute later she had all five heads in a portable cryo unit she'd stashed nearby. She doubted that these guards had any bounties out on them, but it never hurt to check and she hated for her kills to go to waste if there were any chance at all she might be able to turn a profit from it. Waste not, want not after all. Midii fastidiously wiped the blood from her armor as she walked to the darkened offices of her employer. She still had a little more work to do yet this night…

Midii nearly chortled with glee as she counted all of her winnings for the entire series later that evening from a secured position in one of her many safe hideaways. She so rarely had such a good paying series of hits in such quick succession. Sometimes it was months before she got a lead worth her trouble and here were two fat fish that had flopped right into her boat. Not only that, but when she checked the lists not just one but two of her incidental kills had been worth something. Guard number one had had a hit out for him for roughly seven years, not a large one, only five hundred credits, but still it would go a ways to providing food for her family. Then there had been a body guard working for Midii-Shadowblade's ex-employer that had also had a 650 credit price on his head (small potatoes in the bounty hunter world) that Midii had had to kill in order to reach his boss. General Kerber and his partner in crime Quintus Lake had been worth a tidy sum. The first had been a 2500 credit hit and the second had been worth 3570 credits. Midii debated just handing in the towel and going back home with her gleanings so far, she'd be able to take a break, spend time with her family before she had to go back out into the field and finish earning this semester's pay towards the Consortium debt. After taking another look at some of the current posts on the lists Midii decided to remain out in the field. There were times when there were no good hits out on the list, and pickings were so slim that even the little fish were fought over, Midii took her recent spurt of good fortune and the fact that the lists were practically bulging with nice wonderful big hits that would support her family as a sign that luck was with her and this was her big chance to get a hold of a lot of money. It would be nice to get ahead for once, not have to scramble desperately after a lot of small bounties come crunch time or look into the bare pantry of her home and the rail thin forms of her brothers and just wish to hang her head in shame for not being able to provide for them better. Plus, the shuttle tickets she used to track down her victims when she couldn't find enough in one area cost money too. 

Four nights and twelve cold dead bodies later Midii found herself stowed away aboard a cargo freighter headed down to Earth…destination: Hanjok, one of the seamiest cities this side of New Vegas. Any vice and every vice was catered to somewhere in that place; it was the perfect place to disappear, and the perfect place to find someone who had disappeared. All that was needed was a ready bribe and a deadly reputation and all the information she needed would be at her fingertips. Midii was on a bit of a victory high. Right then, she was the most successful and the richest that she had ever been. Of those twelve decapitated bodies, six were target kills; of those six target kills; four were worth big money. She had now over ten thousand in credits from the collection of the bounties; that was enough to buy food for her family to last an entire four months plus still have money left over to pay up the next two months rent and half of the semester debt to the Consortium. So she decided to get a little greedy. One more big kill would be enough to finish off this semesters payment months in advance… meaning she wouldn't have to go out on hunt for a whole four solid months! Midii Une would be able to stay at home with her family for a nice long vacation, she wouldn't have to do much more than work the occasional odd job to earn money to eat. She could at last feel a whole meal in her stomach instead of living off rice and bean curd, half rationing it so that it would last a little longer because every meal she didn't buy for herself was one more meal she could buy for her family. She could go fishing or perhaps even spend a day at the beach. She could be a girl again!

So this is it, she thought as she silently stared at the picture of the face posted on the lists that all bounty hunters used to find out the latest hits and who was dead and who was not and how much they were worth. Jeric Kaneda, a business man with a background in assassination. His preferred weapons were poison darts and poison blades. 

He must be somewhere in this city, that guy I threatened let it slip. The big enchilada; sixty thousand credits. Man, someone must really want him dead if they're offering that much just for a bounty. Then again, this guy has a bit of a rep of his own… It probably makes a lot of the usual crowd of ordinary Bounty Hunters a little reluctant to take him on, she considered.

Well she wasn't afraid. She was worth more dead than alive anyway. She'd had her father take out life insurance on her for a very large sum of money, large enough to pay off the debt and buy out the house. If she died they could collect the money and use it to live in peace. Midii had put aside her feelings of guilt and worthlessness aside when she was young but there was still an inner core of strength inside of her that wouldn't let her give up on her life. So maybe it wasn't great, maybe she was always half-starved and scraping for money to feed her family and pay for her sick father's medical treatments, maybe she was a remorseless bounty hunter who killed so casually it gave people the chills whenever they met her gaze, and maybe she felt so empty and alone sometimes without the closeness of human contact that it made her want to curl up into a fetal position and weep… but in the end she always felt she had to keep on living. She was just too damned stubborn to give up. 

"This is my stop," Midii murmured to herself as she put away her palmtop and prepared to sneak out without anyone noticing. That sixty-thousand credits was practically hers!

* * *

Trowa looked over at the man he'd been surreptitiously tailing for the better part of two days. The fellow who had no discernable features wasn't Kaneda himself, but Trowa knew from the paper trail in the man's accounts that he would likely be meeting up with Kaneda in the very near future, probably this very evening. The man made his living by forging incredible fake identities that were all but impossible to trace or disprove, and in a city like Hanjok a professional of his caliber was in high demand. Mask (for that was the only name the little man went by) was a master of disguise and trickery,  Mask was completely and utterly average… average height, average build, his face was neither handsome nor ugly, and Mask used that very middling-ness to make himself invisible. He could make himself taller or shorter, change his skin and hair color, even his gender, with the application of a some make-up or homemade prosthetics, a costume change and some very good acting. He also performed the same services for others in a way; the papers and fake identity cards disguised his clients as effectively as Mask's own tricks disguised him. 

Mask wasn't the only one good at disguise however. Trowa knew more than a few tricks of the trade himself, and so every time that Mask had changed forms; gone into a bathroom or a resteraunt looking one way and then slipping out among a crowd looking completely different, Trowa had been able to keep up with him. Trowa was certain that Mask didn't know he was being followed. And now… Trowa's diligence was about to pay off. Unless he missed his guess, Mask would be meeting with Kaneda tonight to hand over in person the fake identity he'd made to order and then Trowa could follow him and….

There he is! Trowa thought as a tall, thin man with dark hair slicked back into a ponytail reaching to the middle of his back, small narrow eyes and the demeanor of a trained killer entered the room. Kaneda lit a small cigarette and took a drag as he habitually glanced around him. Trowa was hidden by a small knot of people playing cards and drinking, even though his vista of the rest of the room was limited he could see what he needed to. Kaneda took a seat at a small table in the back of the room then signaled a waitress, requesting two drinks.

That's probably the code-signal for opening dialogue, Trowa thought as he observed them surreptitiously over the rim of his own drink. Sure enough, a few seconds after the waitress brought the requested drinks to the small table, Mask walked up to the slick-haired man and murmured some kind of code sentence to which Kaneda gave the scripted reply and the two men sat down to discuss business.

Trowa had spotted several discrete body guards of Kaneda positioned around the room, so Trowa already knew that trying to take him by force from out of the bar was a futile plan foredoomed to failure. He'd have to get Kaneda while he was out on the streets tonight. Kaneda didn't look like the kind of man who was going to go down easily, and the guards he'd hired were all hardened professionals, veterans of many successful jobs.

Mask signaled for another drink, and the waitress, a different one this time…

Exceptionally pretty, but her uniform looks a little too small, Trowa noted absently with his trained eye for detail, even though the bulk of his concentration was on reading the conversation between Kaneda and Mask. The waitress brought another two drinks, and then started flirting with the customers at the table next to Kaneda as the two dangerous men got on with their discussion.

I almost wish I were the waitress right now, she's in the perfect position to overhear everything they're saying. Mask's prosthetic lips are difficult to read, thought Trowa. A few minutes later, Trowa wondered if it was a coincidence that the waitress moved off to other things just as Mask and Kaneda finished the important part of their discussion. A few minutes later, she was wandering around with a tray of drinks, going to each of Kaneda's guards. She was giving each of them a drink with a wink and a flirt that made them sit back and sip absentmindedly at the proffered beverages while they admired the pretty waitress in the tight uniform. 

A few minutes later, the waitress disappeared, presumably because her shift was over, and Trowa dismissed her from his mind to concentrate on the information he had gleaned that night. Kaneda would be meeting with a few of his old "associates" from the wars later that evening and pier 12 on the wharf. Kaneda probably wanted to discuss ways of getting hold of the rest of his ill-gotten gains and setting himself up under a completely different identity. Kaneda probably figured that he'd already shaken all pursuit by now and wanted to go back to his life of luxury.

Trowa would have to follow Kaneda on his trip through the streets and pick off his guards one by one then hopefully he could take down the man himself, if not then the assignment might take a while. Either way, the time to strike was tonight, before Kaneda could become too firmly entrenched to be dug out without a lot of legal red tape. In a place like Hanjok people often went there to disappear without any questions; and no one asked questions if someone disappeared. Trowa intended to make Kaneda disappear right into the nearest Preventors holding cell.


	3. An Attack and A Meeting

* * *

Trowa melted into the shadows just outside of the restaurant that he'd taken up surveillance in. Kaneda walked out a few minutes later surrounded completely by his hired guns. They began their walk to the wharf and Trowa shadowed them easily, a lifetime as a trained soldier had honed his instincts and skills to the razor edge, and the years of peace had done very little to dull his edge. It looked to him that he'd managed to beat all the Bounty Hunters to the chase. That would make things easier for Trowa, he at least wouldn't be racing against a whole lot of hardened competition.

The streets near the wharf were silent and deserted at this time, the moon was high but only half full and the shadows were still long. The booted footsteps of his quarry and his ten bodyguards echoed off the aluminum siding of the warehouses all neatly lined up like identical chips on a circuit board. The smell of brine and the damp air mixed with fish from the days haul covered the less pleasant more industrial smells. 

Ten minutes by foot to their destination Trowa was so close he could practically touch the shadows of one of the guards. He was considering the best way to attack and get them out of the way without hurting them when something unexpected happened.

"Uhg… ohhhhhh…" one of the guards groaned as he doubled over and clutched his stomach. Trowa's brow furrowed in puzzlement as the guard was joined by another of his comrades, and then another, and another.

"What seems to be your problem?" Kaneda questioned impatiently. "I did not hire men of your caliber so that you could duck out by getting a stomach ache. Pull yourselves together."

"Uhhhhgg…" One of the guards slumped to his knees and then pitched forward, hitting the pavement with a final thump. He was followed quickly by another. Shortly thereafter, a total of four out of ten of Kaneda's guards lay stretched out on the pavement, unmoving. 

Before Trowa could do much more than wonder about this anomaly, someone suddenly streaked out of the shadows in a blur of motion and the sound of rapid footfalls. Two guards went down before they could so much as draw their guns. The remaining four closed into a tight circle around their employer watching the shadows that the mysterious slayer had attacked from and then disappeared into. Trowa watched the shadows and the Kaneda Party as well, if he was to succeed in his mission then he would have to get to Kaneda before this bounty hunter did. 

Another guard went down with a splatter of blood as he dropped to his knees, his eyes wide open in pain and surprise as he made gurgling noises, Trowa noted the hilt of a throwing Kunai sticking out of his throat. That left three still standing. Kaneda called a challenge to the person attacking from the shadows, why didn't he come out into the light and fight face to face? The only answer was another kunai thrown from the shadows, this one was blocked by the guard. That guard hauled out his sawed off automatic and opened fire on the alleyway from which the knife had been thrown. The air was filled with the rattatat of heavy gunfire for nearly a full minute as the overly trigger-happy guard turned the warehouse walls into swiss cheese. 

"Did we get 'im?" one of the guard's comrades questioned a few seconds after the gunfire stopped. All was still. They relaxed as there was no further evidence of movement.

"I must have," the gun toting guard said after a few more seconds of listening intently. "There's no way anyone could have been missed by all of those bullets firing into a blind alley."

"Good. Then let's be on our way," said Kaneda edgily. They had just taken a step to move on when there was the sound of a mass displacing the air around it. Shooting up into the air was a dark silhouette blotting out the stars. The form of the shadow-attacker spun slowly end over end in the air, then landed noiselessly and gracefully on its hands and flowed into a double back-flip that brought it right within range of its obviously intended prey. A final forward roll brought the intended attacker right between two of the guards; still on its knees, the attacker whipped out a handgun with a silencer with his left hand and shot one of the guards right between the eyes, simultaneously the bounty hunter slit the throat of the second with his right, leaving behind only one guard and Kaneda.

Trowa decided that now would be the time to move in, if he wanted to get to Kaneda before the masked bounty hunter did. He launched himself into the air and fell into a triple axle spin flip and landed lightly with expert precision behind Kaneda. With his usual efficiency, Trowa rapped him on the head to render him unconscious so that he could carry him off easily and discovered an unpleasant surprise. Kaneda was wearing a protective helmet under the hood of his jacket. The bounty hunter used Trowa and Kaneda as a shield from the last guard, who had whipped out his handgun and trained it on the both of them.

"Uhhhhrk…" the last guard standing fell over like a tree. 

The bounty hunter concealed behind a facial wrapping turned his attention to Kaneda and Trowa swung the man around so that Kaneda was behind him while he muttered sotto voce to the man he had been assigned to apprehend

"I'm with the Preventor Elites. If you come along quietly I can guarantee you protection against this and all the other bounty hunters."

"Deal," Kaneda said. "I'll go with you, just stop him from killing me."

Trowa fired off a warning shot as the mysterious person who had just taken out ten guards (or to be more precise taken out four and lost the other six to a mysterious illness) the attacker jackknifed into a series of handsprings and back-flips that took him back into the shadows. Trowa kept his gun trained on the last known position and his ears and other senses alert. After a few seconds of silence Trowa said

"It looks like he's gone but I have no doubt that he'll be back later. You can come with me to headquarters now and they'll keep you safe there."

"I feel I should thank you for your assistance, minimal as it was," said Kaneda. "But the deal is off."

Trowas sharp soldier's instincts warned him in just enough time to avoid a fatal blow. Kaneda had hidden a lasic-knife inside of his flak jacket and had moved to knife Trowa in the back. Trowa spun out of the way of the knife in his left hand but his gun was caught by the heated edge of the special blade and was melted into uselessness. Kaneda lunged at him again with his heated knife and Trowa evaded again, but as Kaneda rushed past him he managed to get a good punch in, right into the scumball's stomach. 

"Gotcha," Kaneda murmured triumphantly as he spun around to face the young Preventor. Trowa shook his head and opened his hand. A poison dart lay harmlessly in his palm. He dropped it to the street with a ping, then crushed it beneath his shoe.

That was when the attacker made his move. Falling from above in a rush of wind, there was a flash of light on steel in the moonlight. The figure charged at Kaneda in a smear of darkness on darkness. There came the sharp resounding chime of blade meeting blade then silence again. The Shadowy attacker was once more nowhere to be seen. Trowa had to admit to being a little impressed. His mysterious adversary used terrain and tactics to his advantage. But Trowa was a soldier who had been fighting for as long as he could remember, not only that, he was an ex-Gundam Pilot a phrase synonymous with being the best. When a knife flew out from the shadows Trowa caught it by the hilt and then spun around to use it to block the attack from Kaneda, the man he was nominally protecting. He caught the blade by the hilt and used it to shove Kaneda into the dirt. His blade went flying into the night. 

While Trowa kept and ear out for his bounty hunter competition he advanced on Kaneda with a pair of handcuffs.  

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be provided to you by the state in which you are being charged," he recited as he cautiously reached down to bring the cuff to the disarmed man's wrist.

 Just as he was about to snap the cuffs closed onto Kaneda's right wrist, he stabbed in a lightning quick movement, like a cobra striking, his knife slid into the flesh of Trowa's side. It was not a serious injury, in and of itself (a mere scratch along the outside of his ribs) buy by the time Kaneda drew the knife, dripping with his blood, from Trowa's body the poison that had been on the edge of the blade was already working its way through his system. First Trowa felt hot, then cold, his face flushed as his left side went numb. The de-sensitization swept through his body in intangible icy-hot tentacles swimming beneath his skin as Trowa pitched forward. He caught himself then looked up into the smug face of his quarry. Kaneda gave him a hard kick with his booted foot right into his stomach and Trowa was momentarily glad for the lack of feeling caused by the poison. With the last of his strength, Trowa shakily pulled out his other hand gun and fired blindly, trusting in his incredible reflexes born of a lifetime as a soldier to give him accuracy. Judging by the scream he heard as he blacked out, he'd hit something alright.

* * *

Midii Une was rather cheesed off. It had been the perfect scheme! Disguised as a fetching young waitress she'd overheard that he would be walking with only his vanguard through an unoccupied sector to meet an associate of his that very night, so it had been the perfect time to strike. She'd slipped a fast acting poison into the drinks of Kaneda's guards then disappeared; once they'd had their drink she'd changed into her Shadowblade costume in order to tail them to the warehouse district. 

Then, just as she was about to get her well-deserved prize, that stupid Preventor had to show up. Midii couldn't help but be impressed by his entrance though; he'd just dropped in out of no where. She hadn't even noticed him trailing her prey. It hadn't taken more than a few seconds for her to see that the Preventor wasn't your ordinary run of the mill soldier, the way he held his gun, the way he had seen all of Kaneda's tricks (except for the last one) coming; hell the way he had caught that poison dart without sticking himself with it had certainly made her eyes widen. He was _good_, very good. 

Now what? she wondered as the sound of Kaneda's footsteps receded into the distance. She should go after Kaneda, her rightful prey now that the Preventor agent was out of her way. She really wanted that sixty thousand, but she couldn't just leave that Preventor there to die on the streets. Midii wasn't entirely certain why she felt that way, she'd left plenty of men dead by her own hand in an unknown back alley… but this one was different somehow.

Ah, Hells, she grumbled internally. I must be going soft. I can still get Kaneda a little later. She'd already put her tag onto Kaneda and could track him down at her leisure. She didn't need to worry about the other bounty hunters who might want to find him, she had taken care to pull a red herring, they'd all be looking for him at the Downbelow on L2. Her skills from her days as a spy still came in handy when it came to disguising a trail, or anything else for that matter. By the time they realized they were in the wrong place Midii planned on having already collected her bounty.

Perhaps he'll be worth something, she justified to the money-mongering part of herself. She walked over to where he lay crumpled in a heap on the pavement and rolled him over. Midii had brought a syringe of anti-poison with her (one known to cure most of the commonly used poisons) just in case she got nicked by one of Kaneda's blades. She pushed it into his flesh then pressed the button to release the anti-venom into his system. Then she riffled through his Preventors jacket until she found his wallet. She looked at his identicard.

Trowa Barton eh? she mused as she studied the unsmiling countenance of the young Preventor. An Elite? Well, he certainly does look young to be an Elite, they're the best of the best. Then again, I'm only twenty-one and a renowned bounty hunter, so I don't suppose I have room to throw stones.

She took the credit chits out of his wallet and used his phone to call a cab. There was no sense in her trying to drag him all the way to a safe haven, his muscle mass would likely make him a very very heavy burden. As soon as her call was made, Midii slipped into the shadows and changed out of her Shaowblade costume and into a tight sparkly red tube dress. She took her hair out of its tight chignon and twisted it up into a artfully careless style. She quickly added a touch of lipstick, a bit of eyeshadow, some heels and some fake jewelry and voila! Instant party-girl-gets-stuck-with-her-passed-out-date. The cab driver wouldn't ask any questions, and big bags were in vogue that year, so her costume and weapons would fit just fine. She walked back out to where her "date" lay prone in the middle of the street, and withdrew a bottle of whisky from her purse. She usually used it to clean her wounds, but it would also suit this purpose quite well. She poured it on his clothes, then tipped his head back and poured some in his mouth. There, now he smelled like a passed-out date. The Preventor Trowa stirred and tried to move.

"Stay still," she said, in as soothing a voice as she knew how. "I've called us a cab, it will be here soon. I'll take you someplace where you can heal from the poison and that wound, just hold on a little longer."

The Preventor nearly succeeded in sitting up, a real testament to his incredible stamina. He should be out cold, instead he was nearly on his feet. Midii pushed him back down and said

"Lie still, otherwise I'll be forced to knock you unconscious. And by the way, you're paying for the cab ride."

"Some angel of mercy," he muttered and promptly fell insensible again. Midii patted his cheek gingerly. He was out cold. Well, that would make things easier. The cab arrived and the driver didn't ask any questions. He probably got cases like this all the time, two young people one of whom is passed out, the other calls a cab to come pick them up. 

He dropped Midii and her newfound erstwhile Preventor off at the address she gave him. It happened to be one of her safehouses in Hanjok. A small place, it consisted of a tiny bathroom, and a small room with a Japanese-style mat and blanket for sleeping and a small storage chest, through an wide doorway that could be closed off into a second small room by the use of twin sliding doors there was a low table to eat at, and another chest to store things in. It wasn't the height of luxury, far from it, but it served its function and she'd paid the local thugs their protection fee so she was guaranteed a place that was relatively safe to sleep. 

With two of us here, things are going to be pretty close, but I think it will be fine. I hope he's worth the trouble.

How much in ransom could a single Preventor be? Certainly nothing compared to that nice fat bounty offered for Kaneda. She'd be lucky if she even got a thousand for him. Still, a few hundred was a few hundred and she wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to make some easy cash. Besides… she couldn't really just leave him there to die of poison. Not that she actually cared about what happened to him…

But Kaneda is a sloppy assassin; and I hate to see a sloppy assassin win. It reflects badly on the rest of us, she reasoned internally as she dragged him by his torso into the sleeping room and propped him against the wall on the single pallet. She walked over to the storage chest in the other room and brought out her first aid kit. She'd had plenty of practice bandaging her own wounds, no spy worth her salt trusted anyone else to do it for her, so it shouldn't be difficult to bandage up someone else. 

She discovered a few minutes later after tugging his Preventors jacket off from him and starting in on his shirt, that it could indeed be difficult to bandage someone else's wounds if that someone wasn't conscious to help you with the process. He kept falling bonelessly to the side or back against the wall. Midii just couldn't get him to stay still, gravity was not her friend. Finally she just got behind him with her legs in the splits on either side and propped his torso up against her breast and worked around him. He certainly was tall! It was hard to undo his buttons while she was trying to look over his shoulder, his hair kept getting in her line of vision. She at last managed to get rid of his shirt and began washing away the blood that was beginning to dry there. There was certainly a lot of it and the heavy-thick coppery smell of it pervaded the room. 

Midii noted in passing that the young Preventor (he was Midii's own age actually, she'd seen it on his identicard) had a good many scars already. He'd probably even fought in the wars. She'd been a mercenary, fighting for the highest bidder during the eve wars. She briefly wondered if perhaps he'd been an OZ soldier or perhaps a Treize faction member, a good number of those had followed Lady Une into the Preventors. Well, that was none of her concern. She just had to keep Mister Barton there alive long enough for her to collect his ransom from the Preventors. They took good care of their own, or so she had heard. An Elite would probably fetch a better than average price for his safe return. If they didn't want to pay for him to her outright she would simply have to turn him over to the Bounty Hunters Guild and have them and their lawyers deal with it (it was an honest bit of work she was doing and she deserved to be compensated) of course, she'd lose out on ten percent that way.

Once the encrusted blood was cleaned from the wound, Middi slapped on a Nu-skin (one of the finer brands of dermal regenerators) and began the difficult task of wrapping his chest with a roll of bandages. It took some maneuvering, his muscle mass made him quite heavy and his unconscious state made him bonelessly unbalanced, but she did manage to wrap his chest. Now she would have to wait and see if the antivenom would overcome the poison spread into his system. His cheeks were already fushed and his skin clammy and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. That however was quite normal.

She moved the prone form of her rescued Preventor over onto the left side of the sleeping roll and covered him with a blanket. She'd have to share with him tonight until she could get another pallet and blanket on the morrow. Her "guest" was feverish from fighting the poison and injured as well, he was likely no threat to her. Besides, those Preventors were for the most part the decent hero do-gooder types so even if he wasn't injured he likely wouldn't try anything, and even if he did, Midii herself was far from being helpless.

I'm going to have to monitor his progress for the night anyway, she groused. Someone has to keep him cool or he'll overheat. 

She took out the traditional bowl of water and ice, and a cloth. She didn't see the point in spending more money on those fancy thermal cloths when this would work just as well. There were other things the money needed to be spent on. She moistened then wrung out the cloth and set it across his brow, patting the sides of his face. She was reminded of the time her younger brother Alex had gotten a fever and she'd stayed up all night keeping him cool just like she was doing for the strange man she'd rescued right now. But the Preventor really looked nothing like her brother; this Trowa Barton's hair was darker for one thing. She didn't know what color his eyes were, the dim lamplight hadn't been terribly illuminating and she didn't really see why it would matter. For another thing his frame was lanky, but well defined; his chest and arms were chiseled muscle and he'd moved with the grace of a cat. Her brother was cherubic looking with light blonde hair and blue eyes, at twelve years old he was already on a baseball team with some of the neighborhood boys. Trowa Barton carried the well defined features of a man. His face looked almost effeminate from one angle yet taken as a whole he was quite masculine; there was a smoothness to the curves of his facial features that was quite pleasing, she noted as she studied him. 

Midii hadn't ever studied someone up close like this before. Usually a good number of the men she came into contact with (aside of her family) ended up dead by her hand shortly afterwards. If she wasn't killing or threatening them, they were usually some kind of street scum to be wiped of the bottom of her boots, riddled with disease and or drugs. Midii didn't have time for things like school or boyfriends, she was too busy just trying to survive and support her family. There was something hauntingly familiar about him, but Midii just couldn't place it. It almost felt like she'd seen him somewhere before. Maybe when she'd been running information mongering on the Barton Foundation in 196? But that Trowa Barton had already been declared dead (under mysterious circumstances). 

A strange coincidence in names though, she mused as she re-wet her cloth and continued cooling his face. He's a soldier, that's plain enough to tell just by looking at him. Well even the best of soldiers can have a run of bad luck. If he's lived this long I suppose he must have been about due. I hope he gets better soon. I don't want to leave him here unattended while I go out and hunt down Kaneda. I have to explain to him that he can't go anywhere until I get my ransom for him from that Une woman of the Preventors. Hmph, she doesn't look like a relation. Sure, Midii could just leave him there, kill Kaneda, and take her chances with her guest not being there when she got back… but the stern business woman in her wanted both Kaneda's bounty and the payment for mister Barton as well.

It was at about three in the morning that the anti-venom at last gained a proper hold over the poison. Trowa's fever broke and Midii could afford to finally get some sleep. She'd worry about eating in the morning. She showered, brushed her teeth, and changed into her cotton pants and top for sleep. She checked her patient one last time and fell onto her side of the pallet. With a final sigh of exhaustion she closed her eyes and let her weary body drag her mind into the inky blackness of sleep.


	4. Gains and Losses

* * *

The man who was, for all intents and purposes, Trowa Barton woke slowly. Reality trickled slowly bit by bit through a dense haze of exhaustion. Instead of coming instantly alert as his soldier trained reflexes usually had him, he struggled through a thick cloud of lethargy; he fought hard to beat back the soporific tide of torpor as his senses slowly gave themselves back over to his minds control. His body felt sore and aching, and badly in need of a good stretch and some limbering exercises. He stirred and tried to get up.

"So you're awake are you?" a mellow feminine voice said off to his right. "Here drink this, you lost a lot of water sweating the fever out of your system and I'm sure your body wants to replace it."

A bottle of water was pressed firmly to his lips and tilted. Water trickled into his mouth and down his throat forcing him to swallow or choke on it. He reached up and took the bottle from the person and drank deeply of the cool water. Once he was finished he hauled himself to a sitting position and turned to the person who had offered him water. He had already taken in the details of the room, small, cheap, with minimal furniture. It probably wasn't on the good side of town either.

Trowa was momentarily caught breathless when he looked up to meet the wide, dewy-eyed gaze of his caregiver; the sunlight slanting in through the blinds reflected from her light golden hair momentarily making it look like she had a halo of light around her head. With her soft, feminine beauty she looked exactly like an angel from a classical painting; an epitome of gentle grace and forgiving kindness. White-blonde hair mostly pinned up high on her head in an efficient chignon with a longer piece where the bangs would normally be brushed over to one side and left hanging down beside her face. Her eyes were a dazzling shade of blue, mesmerizing electric blue with farie rings of darker cerulean blue on the outer and inner rims of the iris. Her features were fine, delicate-looking even, with flawless skin and a fragile bone structure. She could have served as a hostess in a fine establishment and readily gotten her pick of well paying clients without having to do much more than look at them with her large luminous eyes and sigh lightly. But Trowa had learned early on not to trust appearances.

"Thank-you for your assistance and your care," he said, deciding to start off on neutral ground and hopefully warm the person up to him by expressing gratitude for whatever services had been rendered. His wounds had been bandaged, and the poison felt like it was mostly gone from his system.

"I didn't help you merely to be thanked," the woman said forthrightly. "I do expect to be compensated."

"I see," Trowa said cautiously, wary of any traps. Had he been rescued by a friend or an enemy? "Just what kind of compensation are you expecting to receive?"

"The only kind worth having," she stated firmly. "Money; and preferably lots of it."

Trowa kept his face a blank mask. It wasn't his place to judge how people earned their keep; did she live there alone? Was she an enemy after all? If so why had she bothered to heal him? She certainly looked harmless, but appearances could be deceiving… 

"What makes you think that I can provide money to you in exchange for care Miss…?" he trailed off, waiting for her to provide a name.

"You're a Preventor," she said, obviously ignoring the invitation. How rude. "Your agency will provide compensation for aid. Or Shadowblade will call in the guild."

"Shadowblade? The bounty hunter?" Trowas questioned carefully. He'd heard a few stories of the prowess of that fighter, he was supposed to be quite a hot shot hunter, always managed to bring in a good haul. So what did that make this woman? His savior? Or his keeper? 

"Correct," was all she said.

His first impulse was to ask "how are to two of you connected" but he caught himself. That was none of his concern, a better question to ask would be

"How did I come to be here?"

"Shadowblade brought you here, and I took care of you," she answered succinctly.

"So you work for him then," he surmised.

"Shadowblade is my other half," she stated with a small curious smile. Trowa felt a jolt of recognition, like déjà vu. He'd seen her somewhere before, he was _sure_ of it. 

That's a curious answer, he thought as he studied her covertly while he took another drink. They must be lovers then.

"How much are you worth anyway?" the young woman questioned. "I'd like to know if you're worth the time and effort it took to get you here and cleaned up. I do have other things I could be doing you know."

"I'm sorry if I'm an inconvenience," he said mildly. 

"You won't be as much of one if you'll give me a number," she answered smartly. "Then I can sell you back to your boss lady and get back to my work. Say, what're the Preventors up to by chasing after Kaneda anyway?"

"That information," he told her, "is classified."

"Well you guys should give up on this one. Even if the man didn't have a price on his head large enough to tempt any sane bounty hunter and quite a few that aren't into taking the risk, Shadowblade is after him. You guys don't have much of a chance on beating out the competition if you're the only one they sent."

Trowa momentarily frowned a little on the inside (even though his face remained outwardly unchanged) at the implied insult. It was bad enough he was injured, he didn't want to make the Preventors lose face on top of that. Perhaps he could reach an agreement with the little missie.

"You and this bounty hunter… you work together; is that correct?"

"yes," she answered. "I run errands, handle his business, look up his targets and anything else he needs me to do. Shadowblade just goes and gets the targets and hands in the bounties. I'm the one who takes care of the business end of things."

"Then you're the one I'd speak to if I wanted to hire him to run a temporary job for me," Trowa said, eying her keenly. There was a definite air of capability and intelligence about her, and a very definite gleam of mercenary zeal as well.

"Yes. Shadowblade won't deal with people directly, I'm the one who handles that end of things. What kind of job do you want him for?"

"I want him to keep his other, shall we say _brethren_, off Kaneda's trail until I can apprehend him," Trowa began climbing to his feet and reaching for his bloodied jacket.

The young blonde was fixing him with a look that said 'excuse you?' and she said aloud

"First of all you're not going anywhere until I have your ransom in my bank account and the deposit clears. Second of all, if you think that your piddly little one thousand credits is going to convince us to give up the bounty on Kaneda… you're out of your mind."

"How so?" Trowa questioned.

"Well for starters if we just stood aside and let you bring him to justice or whatever that would immediately take him off the Lists. The price on his head would be lost to you guys who do it for free. Even if you did offer us money to help you it would in no way make up for the we money lost by not taking his head."

"On behalf of the Preventors I can offer you up to five thousand; that should recoup your losses."

"Ha! The man is worth sixty thousand. Do I look like I'm running a charity outfit? No mister Barton, I'm afraid you're going to have to give up and go home," she said firmly. But then her face lit up and the mercenary gleam in her eye grew even brighter.

"However, we don't have to send you home empty handed. If you tell me what you want to know from Kaneda, I'll make certain that Shadowblade gets the information out of Kaneda before he takes his head, all for the low low price of four thousand and fifty credits, plus the five hundred and fifty I'm asking for taking care of you."

"Five hundred fifty credits?" he questioned, warming up to the bargaining. "For a ride here, a mat on the floor and a roll of bandages?"

"I will have you know that under those bandages is a nu-skin padd (those don't come cheap), plus there's the anti-venom that took care of the poison and it's lucky that Shadowblade was there to deliver it on time or you most likely wouldn't be having this conversation with me. And that's not to mention all the time I spent trying to bring down your fever mister Barton, I was awake until well after three in the morning before it broke. Besides all that, you were the one who paid for the ride here. You had just enough in your wallet to cover it."

She has to be the most mercenary woman I've ever met, Trowa thought furiously. Catherine had taken him in and cared for him, tried her hardest to protect him and welcomed him as family out of the kindness of her heart and never asked anything of him in return, and here was this young woman who had had him for a little over a day according to his watch, who wanted him to pay her an outrageous amount of money for her trouble. Trowa was feeling a little insulted. Not only that, she wanted him to give up on Kaneda until she'd gotten her payment; by then he would probably have already gotten his head chopped off by some wandering bounty hunter if not by her own friend. In addition to that he'd had most of his money taken out of his wallet to pay for his own cab ride, as if that weren't enough she was oh so graciously offering to let him pay her for information from a basically condemned man. This was all just plain wrong.

"I have neither the time nor the inclination to 'bat this around with you' as I believe the saying goes" Trowa informed her in his concise manner. "I have to get to Kaneda before anyone else does. Thank-you for your assistance but since my condition has improved sufficiently to let me accomplish my mission I will take my leave. Give me an account number and I'll see that you get payment."

"You're not going anywhere until after that deposit clears with my five hundred fifty in Uni-sphere credits in it. The only way out is through that door, and the only way through that door is through me. You can barely stand, let alone fight, so you might as well make yourself comfy. I'll talk to Shadowblade about getting that information and we can discuss the details of the reward for it later," she said with a note of finality.

When hell freezes over you greedy little pirate, he thought. He had to admit that he was still a little weak and getting up had made him feel dizzy but he felt more than capable of taking the little missie there on in a fight. She didn't look so tough, quite the opposite, and he'd just bet that she relied on that bounty hunter of hers to do all of her fighting for her. She had all but said that she was the brains of their operation.

Trowa wobbled to his feet and shrugged on his jacket, hiding a wince as the torn skin of his side twinged at him. He started heading for the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" the young woman demanded.

"I've already told you, I'm leaving. I've wasted enough time here already and I would imagine that Kaneda's trail has gotten cold by now," he answered.

"And _I've_ already told _you_, that the only way out of here is through me. Besides, no man could possibly heal that quickly, if you attempt to take on a man like Kaneda in your present condition you'll end up even worse off. Dead most likely," she informed him matter-of-factly.

"Why do you care?" he questioned turning back to look at her.

"I don't," she answered crossing her arms and tossing her head dismissively. "It's just good business sense. If you die, I don't get the money for your safe return."

Her concern for my well being is truly heart-warming, he thought ironically. If I stick around here any longer she might figure out a way to get even more money out of me and I'll be forever known as the agent who sent the Preventers into penury.

"Lady, I'd pay you well just to be rid of you, now I have a mission to accomplish."

Then, much to his embarrassment, he staggered sideways on his way to the door. The woman with the lovely blonde hair caught him quickly and draped one arm around her shoulders, supporting him with her tiny frame. Trowa felt ridiculous, she was at least a head shorter than he was and she was trying to hold up his weight with her petite little body. His feet firmed under him a little and the young woman led him back over to the mat and propped him back up against the pillows.

"You should at least stay here long enough to regain your strength," she told him. "I'll tell you what… In the interests of making as much money off from you and your agency as humanly possible, I'll tell my associate Shadowblade to hold off on killing Kaneda for now. Instead, I'll ask him to capture and hold him for you. It's a lot more work, which is really the reason why most bounty hunters just take the targets head, but I suppose I can afford to cooperate with the Preventors on this since I anticipate making enough to set my- I mean me up for quite some time. Once Shadowblade has Kaneda, I'll take you to visit him and you can ask him whatever you need to. After you're done with him you walk away without him, Shadowblade does his thing, I get my money, and everyone goes home happy."

"You sound like you're getting the better end of the bargain," he pointed out. "Not only do you get the money for taking care of me, you get me out of the way from beating your friend to the competition, plus the sixty thousand from Kaneda's bounty, and I would imagine that you intend to charge a fee for arranging the meeting between myself and Kaneda."

"My, you are quick!" she congratulated him. "If you weren't a Preventor you'd make a fine bounty hunter I'm sure."

I'm not certain if I should feel flattered by that or worried, he thought as he looked at her steadily. He just couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity he got whenever he looked at her. He'd manage to brush it off for a minute as idle fantasy (she was a very attractive woman after all) but then she'd tilt her head a certain way or look at him sidelong and it would return in full force. And what had she almost let slip just a second ago?

She probably just almost said something like 'my lover' instead, he thought dismissively. And he didn't know why he was hung up on that fact either.

"Well, the holding Kaneda part sounds good, but I don't know about the rest of it," Trowa said slowly. "Une may need more information out of him than I can think of to ask. What if we need to ask him some more questions and your bounty hunter has already lopped off his head and cashed it in?"

"Then you contact me and my associate will find out what you need to know. We do also do some information mongering and other odd jobs," she said cheerfully. 

"I'll bet," he said dryly. "And I imagine you intend to make the Preventors pay through the nose for whatever you dig up."

"Naturally," she replied to his last comment. "However, if it will make you more accommodating towards me I'd be willing to bring down the price a little."

Trowa noted that she said that last part most reluctantly, as if saying so pained her.

"I'm certain that whatever your friend could dig up, I could dig up even faster," he informed her in his usual quiet manner.

"Well aren't we special?"

Trowa looked at her sharply and the woman looked back at him steadily, unfazed. Apparently she'd lost any fear of him she might have had while she was taking care of him. For a moment he was a little miffed by that; he'd been an indestructible (and un-self-destructable) soldier on the battlefield during the wars and now he was quibbling over who got to go out and accomplish his mission? He should have his head examined, or perhaps a little of that poison was still in his system because he was definitely not feeling himself.  

Another wave of dizziness washed over him followed by a rush of heat and a shortness of breath. His face flushed and then paled as spots danced before his eyes. The woman apparently wasn't completely heartless for she rushed to his side and said

"Here, you really shouldn't be moving in the condition you're in. The wound wasn't bad, but that poison can linger in the system for a while. If you over-stress your body, you can succumb to a relapse mister Barton. You need to lie still and rest."

Is it the poison still in my system or was that just a note of concern I heard in her voice? Maybe her heart isn't in her wallet after all, he thought as the pretty young woman quickly pulled a blanket over him and wrung out a cloth soaked in a bowl of water. He had to admit it felt very good when she put it against his forehead. He closed his eyes and let himself relax a bit. It was rather nice to be attended to by a beautiful young woman whom you didn't regard as family, no matter what her motives were.

She sighed a bit after a few minutes and said

"Alright. I'll tell my associate to capture and restrain him for now. I don't want you out of bed so soon or I'll never get paid. We can decide who gets Kaneda later, just promise you'll be good and stay in here while I'm gone."

"You're leaving?" he questioned in surprise.

"Yes. I have to, I have errands to run and matters that require my attention. I am a full partner in this business after all and it isn't a cakewalk. I've left food for you in the fridge and there are towels and linens in the bathroom closet. I was uncertain of your size, but the clothes in the chest should fit. One of my associates is approximately your size. I'll likely be gone all day and back this evening. I'll bring dinner."

"Oh, you're not going to make me pay for that as well?" he muttered in slightly mocking surprise. 

"I'll put it on your tab," she snapped, sounding mildly insulted.

"Well you do have to admit, you're rather… mercenary about everything. I don't think I've heard you utter a sentence yet that didn't have you trying to get money from me," Trowa said to her. He didn't feel like apologizing for his ungracious remark.

"Well, would you like me to lie to you?" she said. "I'm not going to be ashamed for what I am. I learned a long time ago that regret won't get you anywhere. Yeah, I'm a mercenary, and a damned good one too. At least I'm honest about what I'm fighting for. If you're honest and you hurt someone or even kill them, it's a lot easier on you than if you'd lied to them about it first, Mister Barton."

Trowa was silent for a moment and then said

"You keep calling me Mister Barton, you can use my name miss… Actually, you haven't even introduced yourself. What is your name miss?"

"Make one up, I'll answer to it," she stated bluntly.

"And here you were talking about honesty and now you won't even tell me your name. How honest is that?"

"People in my profession don't have names, or if we do we don't tell others what they are; especially strangers. Just give me a name it would be the same thing."

Trowa looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He knew from personal experience that it wasn't the same thing. He himself had gone through almost his entire existence without having a name and he couldn't imagine why anyone would want to choose namelessness. But it wasn't really his place to argue with her about it.

"Very well then missie, how about-"

"That'll do," she said abruptly. Trowa looked over at her in puzzlement.

"Missy. I'll answer to that. It's nice to meet you Trowa Barton."

"And you Missy," he said, shrugging. "You just said you had errands to run, you'd better get moving then."

"In just one moment," she said. Trowa was mildly surprised when she moved close to him and examined his arm minutely, and her close proximity made him hyper aware of her; the way her hair smelled lightly floral, and the way her full perfect lips quirked to one side as she weighed some unknown options in her head, and the way the cloth of her house dress stretched across her bust as she breathed, or… his observations were brought to a surprised halt at the sound of some kind of metal band clicked into place around his upper arm. Trowa looked at her in surprise.

"What is this?" he demanded, gesturing to the new and unwanted accessory now adorning his upper arm.

"Just a simple tracking device," she said, as if it were of no moment. "Don't bother trying to remove it, if you do it will automatically inject you with a powerful tranquilizer that will make you sleep until Shadowblade or I can come and find you. I don't want to run the risk of you getting away while I'm out running errands, so now, even if you do decide to be foolish, I can still track you down for my reward money. I hope you're still here when I get back because I'd hate to waste our time by having Shadowblade track you down."

"Don't you trust me?" 

"Please," she said scornfully, "I don't even trust my own shadow."

With that she tugged the covers up to his chin and bid him sleep off the rest of the poison until she got back. Trowa considered arguing, but reconsidered. When she left he could get into contact with Lady Une and tell her of the deal he'd just cut with the little missie and her bounty hunter friend. If necessary he could get authorization from his superior to pay whatever the rapacious little mercenary wanted for the information. It might be better in the long run to go this route; Une had done it a time or two before, that was, paid for an outside bounty hunter to take care of a particularly nasty piece of business. To be perfectly accurate, she'd let the names appear anonymously on the Lists and stood inactive while the troublemakers were hunted down. If the criminals had come to her and asked for the protection of the Agency, she would have been forced to give it; however none of them ever had so she hadn't gone out of her way to aid them and whatever little trouble they had been brewing up had died off when they did. It was a very neat little way of getting around the Preventor code of ethics without actually compromising them. 

Trowa nodded once and the little missy closed the sliding doors separating this room from the next. A few seconds later he heard the rustle of Missy gathering her things in preparation to leave and then the sound of the door opening and shutting behind her. The house was still. Trowa stretched out on his back and stared up at the ceiling, mulling over the case, and trying to get his still-slow-with-grogginess brain to start working.  

From what I've gathered on my own Kaneda made his wealth by selling specific parts necessary to run Mobile suits and dolls… he started out as a subsidiary of the Romafeller Foundation supplying parts to OZ, and then later to both OZ and the White Fang, and then later to the Barton Army. When the wars ended he lost all of his money because his industry was so highly specialized it couldn't change fast enough to keep ahead of the competition. Now he makes whatever money he can by selling the parts on the black market to any anarchist or rebel faction that will pay him. Hn, more of the same. It's a little humiliating that he actually managed to catch me with one of his poison tricks. That's never happened before… It looks like I'll have to get that bounty hunter's help on this one if I want to get the information out of him before someone else takes his head off. I could go out looking for him, but that poison is still in my system and if I were to be hinest with myself I'd probably only be putting myself and the mission at risk. It's not wise to compromise the mission if there is another course available.

Trowa pulled out his cellphone/palmtop computer and flipped it open. A few seconds after he dialed the number to the secured line Une's visage with a headache appeared on the little screen he held before him. Their conversation was direct and to the point. The change in plans was approved, permission was granted, maximum spending limit supplied, necessary inquiries to make to Kaneda supplied, and it was tacitly said that Shadowblade and the little miss were to have Kaneda to dispose of after questioning (one less problem to worry about). Lady Une ordered him to stay in bed and recover citing that she didn't want to deal with the unholy wrath of an elder sister roused to protective fury, but it was also tacitly understood that Une cared about him too in her own good boss kind of way. They made their farewells and Trowa terminated the link. Then he sat stretched back out on his back and let his eyes drift closed; giving up the fight against weariness he spiraled down into a healing sleep.


	5. Dinner and Reconnaisance

* * *

Midii Une as Shadowblade examined the puzzlebox that her quarry had hidden himself away in and pondered ways and means. Thick cement walls, steel reinforced doors, two guards on duty at the front gate, five more patrolling the lawns, three shifts of ten each cruising the interior, plus thirteen personal bodyguards surrounding Kaneda himself at all times. The abandoned mansion that Kaneda had holed himself away in still had a mostly intact security net and the rest had been jury-rigged. Lasers, motion detectors, plas-glass windows, digital code locks, check points, a horde of evil henchmen… the usual.

Childs play, she decided after completing her reconnaissance. 

The real challenge is smuggling Kaneda out of there and into my own personal safehouse without having to take on all of those guards and their guns. Or perhaps I don't have to smuggle him out at all. I could just kill all of those hired goons and lock the king up in his own castle. But then there's always the danger of him slipping my net by using a hidden exit. I can get around most of his traps, his security net wont be any trouble at all if I can either get the codes to it or create some kind of momentary short circuit. But all of that will take a little time. Lessee, I'll sneak in over the secure net on the grounds via the roof. Ah, but those plas-glass windows don't respond to regular glass cutters and the ones developed to handle cutting them make a lot of noise. No good, I could short the wire out under the windowpane and open it but there's always an chance that the alarm will trip anyway because of the motion. Hmm… on a job like this I usually do a few nights reconnaissance and planning plus a little background set up, but I'm short on time. Maybe I can get in without opening a window. The vent perhaps? Yeah, that's original, no one would ever think that a person would break in using the vent. Right. Still, there won't be any motion detectors in the system because of the passage of the air…

This was really more of a professional thief job than it was that of a bounty hunter. For one thing, she didn't actually intend to kill anyone this time around. Perhaps that idiot Preventor's useless morals were rubbing off on her. Nah, it couldn't be, she wasn't going soft, she was being practical. Such a large amount of dead bodies would call too much attention to her, and she needed to at least maintain the appearance of acting within reasonable behavior even if she really wasn't. And when working with a Dudley-Do-Right group like the Preventors she needed to be extra careful. No dead bodies this trip, it would be easier without them.

It was in thinking about the vent system that gave Midii the idea. She could just set off a really large dose of sleepy-gas in the vent and knock out all of the guards and Kaneda. By the time the guards outside realized something was wrong on the inside of the house, Midii would hopefully have already made off with her target. But speaking of making off with the man; she'd already secured a location for him, (a deep, dank, clammy location with lots of chains and only one way in and one way out) however he was still likely to be quite heavy and Midii doubted she could make her gymnastics leap from one rooftop to the next while burdened with one or two hundred extra pounds. The gas wouldn't reach the guards covering the ground. Well, she'd just knock out one of the garden guards on her way out and steal a car. That sounded simple enough.

A simple plan was best, and Midii had learned to be flexible when breaking and entering.

I don't have enough time tonight to start in on the actual nabbing of Kaneda; _that_ will have to wait until tomorrow night. If I didn't have my little houseguest I could have been done with this mess and on my way back home by now. But… I have to admit, it's nice to think of going home to someone after a long day of work. It wasn't really all that easy tracking Kaneda down to this place after all. Kaneda covered his tracks very well and I spent the better part of the day tracking him down to this place.

Midii was a little proud of herself for her handling of the invalid Preventor situation. Midii had never had a guest to look after before. She'd expected him to remain asleep for the next few days while the poison worked its way clear of his system. Kaneda used the best. Instead, he was on his feet and practically out the door before she could finish haggling him up to a fat price. She thought she'd been pretty clever to act like herself and Shadowblade were two different people. Now she doubted he'd catch on to the fact that she and the infamous bounty hunter were one and the same, he was still probably befuddled with poison anyhow. 

Even if he does catch on, he won't know my true identity, she reassured herself as she started to feel a little tingle of alarm at the thought of anyone finding out who she really was. There's no way he could. Hardly anyone's ever heard of the girl named Midii Une, as a civilian I'm a complete nonentity. When I was a spy I'd only been caught a few times and most of those people are already dead. There's no need for me to worry about being recognized.

She wasn't entirely certain why she would have that particular fear right at that moment. It was utterly ridiculous. Unless he was from her home village there was no way he'd know who she was; and even the people in her home village all thought that little Midii Une was just away at boarding school the whole time she was gone on her hunts for money. No one knew about Midii the spy, no one except for the "businessmen" of the Consortium.

What if he's one of the Consortium's thugs only pretending to be a Preventors Agent? she thought. Oh, what am I saying? I ran a check on his card last night; he's their agent alright, unless the Consortium has paid for someone to have some serious cosmetic surgery done. No, that's all just silly, there'd be no point in spending all of that money just to take a look at what I'm doing.

She'd been trying all day to keep her mind off the tall, well built man whose perfect washboard stomach she'd wrapped bandages around the previous night, but the fact was she couldn't seem to stop thinking about him. She felt the oddest feelings around him, as if she recognized him from somewhere but she didn't know how she knew him. His voice had made shivers run up her spine, but not shivers of fear. She was familiar with the cold sweat of terror, but the pounding in her chest when she'd met his eyes for the first time was nothing like the way her heart beat when she just narrowly escaped death once again. He had the most incredible green eyes, beautiful like the sun splashing through the trees near her home. When she'd looked into them it had felt like the floor dropped out from beneath her and she was held suspended by a pair of eyes from a dream she'd been having for years. It was most unsettling.

Speaking of houseguests, I'd better get moving. He's probably hungry by now, she thought. It had been a little over six hours since she'd left him there and it was now full dark.

When she'd shed the armor and weapons of her life as Shadowblade, she'd sort of snapped back into Midii-Mode, the kind of person she was when she wasn't on a hunt for a hit. Midii was more along the lines of her true self. Midii had a family, Midii loved her younger brothers, Midii made certain father took his medicine, Midii balanced the accounts, Midii ran the household, Midii cooked, Midii sewed, Midii badgered her brothers into helping her, Midii walked down to the small market in their town and bought fresh fruits, Midii watched the boats of their small fishing village from the shores, Midii practiced gymnastics and martial arts in the courtyard of their house. And now, apparently, Midii played nursemaid to injured Preventors.

"It's me," she announced as she walked in the door burdened by a plastic sack full of Chinese food. "I hope you're still here."

"I'm here," the quiet, mellow voice of Trowa Barton called softly from the other room.

"Good. I brought enough for both of us."

"You were gone for so long, I was beginning to wonder if you were going to return," he said as she slid the door back and entered the room he slept in. Midii was surprised that he did not sound peevish, only mildly curious. She pulled the low table from the other room over to his sleeping mat and sat down cross-legged from him, putting the bag of food on the table between them. He followed her movements with his eyes

"Business of the nature I attend to can take a while. I'm sorry if you got bored. I spent the majority of the day tracking down where Kaneda rabbited off to. I'll be spending most of tomorrow on errands of a different nature than what I did today. Shadowblade should have Kaneda in his keeping shortly, in another day or so, these things can take time and while he's taking care of that I'll be looking up another likely prospect for a good bounty in the area. You'll have the information you want within three days," she told him as she separated equal proportions of steamed rice, sweet and sour chicken, chicken and shrimp fried noodles, and egg rolls. That was the cheapest warm meal she could get with enough there for two.

"Good," he said. Then after a brief pause he added "Thank-you." 

"Um, you're welcome," she said, a little awkwardly. She didn't really get many opportunities to talk to men her own age face to face, usually it was from behind the mask of Shadowblade, and she wasn't certain what to say so she opted for nothing. The silence between them wasn't at all uncomfortable, at least not from her point of view. She had other things to think of right at that moment, like how she was going to get the repairs to that roof and the sink done on a budget of only two hundred credits. Alex was outgrowing his clothes as fast as she could buy them, and Michael's thirteenth birthday was coming up. If she recalled correctly her father would be due for another medical check-up soon (those were always expensive) and even if he wasn't due, he needed one. She didn't like the way he'd been coughing lately, and when she'd washed his clothes she'd noticed blood splatter flecking the cuffs of his sleeves. He'd been coughing up blood and hiding it behind his sleeve, and that worried her. Plus there was also the matter of the Consortium debt… They had been acting entirely too inquisitive about where it was that Midii went to when she left the little village and how she got the money to pay both the bills and the debt she owed. She had a way to get in touch with her family in case of an emergency, but she'd instructed her brothers never to call her on it and never to use her real name. Too dangerous; dangerous for her, but mostly for them.

Sometimes it gives me nightmares just thinking about how vulnerable they are, she thought. Midii was also a worrier. She worried about them constantly. If I could, I would be there protecting them, but I have to stay out here and make more money. Oh, I hope thy're okay. I wish I could just talk to one of my little brothers right now, to know that they're doing alright. 

Apparently her guest didn't mind the silence either, which was a relief since that meant she didn't have to make stuff up or hide behind half truths and shadings of lies. Those sorts of things were easy for a spy, but Midii preferred to deal honestly when the situation permitted. Sure, she could spin a yarn that could hook a skeptic but that didn't mean she enjoyed it.

"I appreciate you bringing dinner here for me," he said after a little while. "You appear to like food."

Midii looked down at her empty plate.

"Yes, I don't often get to eat a full meal like this. Usually only when I get to go home, the rest of the time it's half rationed to save money," she said carefully. There, a little information, but not too much.

"You do seem to be concerned with it," he said, almost hesitantly.

"With what?" she queried. 

"Money," he said succinctly. "Making it, saving it. You must be desperate to have hooked up with a bounty hunter."

Midii frowned at that.

"What's wrong with bounty hunters? It's a sight better than some of the alternatives. At least I'm not out there selling drugs or- or… other things," she replied with some heat before she stumbled over the reference to prostitution. It wasn't that she had a problem with it. Selling her sword wasn't a whole lot different in concept, it was just that she couldn't ever contemplate herself selling her own body. No, she'd far rather be a skilled man-slayer than an expensive plaything.

"You have a point," he admitted. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"I would rather you were up front about it than having you judge me in silence," she informed him. "I have a little work to do tonight so I'll take my leave."

"Sleep well Mister Barton, I'll be in this next room if you need anything," she said as she softly slid the separating panel shut between them. She'd gotten her extra pallet while she'd been out. After her shower she retired to it, and once she's forced herself to acclimate to the sound of someone breathing softly within her vicinity, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Trowa looked over at the panels separating the room he slept in from the room where she dwelled. Barely one hour after having her come back from being gone all day and he'd already managed to offend her. She had been right about him making certain assumptions about her, but that was only because Trowa felt that there was something not quite right in the atmosphere. The lady herself, Missy, had refused to give him her own name. It could be that she just simply didn't have one, there were a lot of war orphans out there, but it was far more likely that her original reply was closer to the truth; she hid it from him because it would be dangerous to her for him to know it. Then, she was gone all day on unspecified business. What was she to Shadowblade or Shadowblade to her; her lover or her keeper? She was more than lovely enough to play the part of a successful bounty hunter's mistress, the best hunters usually had one to make things comfortable for them when they got back from a long stint of hunts. But she looked and acted and had informed him that she was the bounty hunters full partner, she certainly didn't act like he would expect a kept mistress to act. From what little she'd said, apparently she did all of the background and mundane work and she just sent him in there to take care of the dangerous stuff. It seemed like a good arrangement, a common enough thing really… but why did he still get the feeling that there was something strange going on?

Then there was the girl herself. Trowa couldn't recall seeing any woman so captivating before. From there very instant he'd laid eyes on her shining in the morning sunlight he'd been immediately attracted to her. It was like she was everything he'd been searching for without even knowing it until he'd seen her. He hadn't paid a whole lot of attention to women really, there was his sister but she didn't really count. He doted on her, cared about her, protected her in his own way and she in turn provided him with what he'd been searching for since that day he'd left that girl in the burned out ruins of a battlefield… She gave him a place to come home to, someone to protect, and family to care about. 

The circus was the only place where he felt he really belonged, and Catherine was at the heart of that sense of belonging. There was only one problem with his sister as far as he could see, and it was her never ending quest to see him happily settled. Every other time he turned around she'd picked out another girl who was going to be just perfect for him. Catherine was perfectly happy and she wanted everyone else around her to be perfectly happy as well, it was just in her nature. Usually Trowa ended up going on a couple of dates with them to please Catherine, but the women she hooked him up with just didn't… suit him. They didn't have anything in common. There always seemed to be something missing from the beginning and as a consequence the relationship was doomed to be brief. Sometimes they lasted no longer than a brief roll in the hay (so to speak), both parties with their physical needs satisfied but still searching for someone or something else. It was fun, but ultimately unsatisfactory. 

Still, he had his sister Catherine who provided him with all of the security and sense of family he could want and he had the circus which gave him a place to go home to. Perhaps in the end that was all he needed or even wanted. The empty boy called No-name had had none of these things and as a consequence could really only be called half alive. Hell, that spy-girl working for the Alliance had had more than him in the end. It was probably foolish for him to want or expect more than what he already had, he couldn't imagine himself being helplessly swept away by the tides of passion described in paperback fiction. It was entirely too against his character become so wrapped up in someone else that it became a sort of manic obsession. Right?

No-name is still a part of me, he thought as he lay back and closed his eyes again. His heart and life were so empty that he never cried even when he killed his own comrades and he couldn't see the value of living. He just kept shutting down his heart little by little. That core of apathy and that desire to protect are still a part of who I am. I'm not a wanderer anymore, so I suppose this means that I'm truly the same as that girl now. I have a family I protect and a place to go home to.

It was odd that he would suddenly start thinking about her now after all of this time. The Alliance spy who said her name was Midii Une, who had been responsible for the destruction of the mercenary company he'd grown up with. Well, not singularly responsible… there had been a number of soldiers who'd turned their coats and went over to the Alliance (those were the ones he'd killed) but it had been because of her that the Alliance had been able to find and wipe out their main base. Now he felt he understood what motivated her, she'd had a family to feed. The way tears had fallen down her cheeks as she screamed out her heart to him while he watched impassively was something he'd never managed to quite forget. No-name had not bothered getting angry with her, there had been nothing that No-name cared enough about to bother with getting angry. Trowa Barton however felt an unreasoning knot of anger and betrayal whenever he thought about the spy who was the first person his own age he could reasonably call a friend. He couldn't quite seem to forgive her for her actions, even though he logically understood them. She'd done what she had to in order to take care of the ones she loved, but he'd been hurt by her. It had been a little over ten years since he'd turned and walked away from the traitor leaving her standing alone on a burned out battlefield, but he'd never forgotten her name; Midii Une. He'd forgotten everything else, when he searched his memory of those events now all he saw was a blank face with pretty blonde hair that had tears running down its cheeks. But he remembered her name and what she'd done.

And why am I thinking about all of this now? he wondered. There was something nagging at him in the back of his brain, some wisp of thought or memory that he couldn't seem to pin down. It's been eleven years, all of that is in the past. There's no relevance whatsoever to my current status.

He shoved the disturbing thoughts and memories aside, this wasn't the time for a trip down memory lane. He hated being inactive, it gave him entirely too much time to think. With a soft snort of annoyance, Trowa cleared his mind and willed himself into sleep.

"…I'm not empty like you! I'm filled with things! My family! My job! My guilt!"

Trowa found himself standing back on the battlefield facing the young girl, Midii Une. The face was blurred from the passage of time and life but the voice was still as poignant as ever. 

Trowa stood looking at her silently, his face impassive. He didn't want to hate her, but he couldn't forgive her. She stood there on the blasted out field sobbing and he just watched the tears fall at his feet. The dream slowly faded away and he opened his eyes to a darkened room. 

Strange. She seemed so familiar just now… he thought, puzzled by the significance of it. Then he dismissed it as irrelevant, he wasn't a follower of the Freudian school of psychoanalysis, and he didn't really feel that dreams held any real significance to everyday life. They were merely a series of random images and subconscious thoughts or desires crammed together in an effort to make sense of everything. He closed his eyes and went back to sleep and when he awoke in the morning he'd forgotten all about it.

Missy tapped politely on the panels separating her room from his. The scent of some kind of baked good preceded her. She'd obviously already been out to get breakfast and back. Trowa was still feeling weak from the poison still working its way out of his body but was pleased to note that a lot of the general muzzy-headedness had faded.

"Come in," he said after smoothing his clothes and sitting up in the sleeping roll. Missy slid the panel open and Trowa could see just a little past her shapely legs into the room behind her. A rolled up sleeping pallet, a half-open carisak, a chest for storage, and the exit was all there was in the little space. Missy presented a paper sack full of little fried cakes dusted with powdered sugar and gave him a small smile.

"You're looking a lot better today," she said pleasantly. "You certainly do recover quickly. Even with the help of the anti-venom most normal people take at least a week to make it as far as you have in two days. What's your secret?"

Trowa looked up at her with half of his face covered by his hair.

"Soldiers have to remain healthy in order to fight. I've been a soldier from the day I was born."

Missy seemed surprised when he said this but Trowa didn't think anything of it. Most people reacted like that when he said that. 

"Ah. I see," she said kneeling infront of the table and parceling out an equal share of the breakfast she'd brought. "I think I'd rather have just regular healing abilities in that case."

Trowa looked at her sidelong in amusement, and Missy's face glowed into a laugh. Her pretty eyes sparkled with mirth as she tacitly invited him to share in on the joke. He bit into the greasy-looking confection and was surprised by how good it tasted.

"I love these things," she said in a confiding tone. "They're probably bad for you, horribly fattening with a lot of sugar, but they're so good. I figured that since I was entertaining a guest I could afford to splurge a little."

"A guest?" he said, nodding to the band still adorning his upper arm. "Is this what you call hospitality?"

"It could be worse," she said with a small smile. "I could have held you captive at my home and made you work on repairs to my house. We have a leaky roof and you seem like such a strong young man."

"I do work at a circus," he admitted. "There's a lot of heavy work involved in that."

"Oh, first you're a soldier and now you work in a circus," she said, her tone one of amused disbelief. "Right, pull the other one."

"It's true," he insisted. A little charmed by her manner, she was so pretty when she was teasing. "When I'm not called in to work for the Preventors I work at a circus."

"Oh really," she said, clearly still not believing him. "And just what do you do?"

"I'm a clown," he said honestly.

Missy laughed at that, Trowa was puzzled as to why. But he discovered she had a very pretty laugh.

"Now I know you're lying," she said to him, her tone triumphant.

"I'm not and what makes you think so," Trowa said, surprised to discover that he was enjoying this.

"You're too serious to be a clown," she said directly. "If you told a child some of your war stories they'd run away crying."

"I don't tell them war stories," he supplied. "I don't say anything at all. I merely stand still while my sister throws knives at me."

"You must be a soldier then. That's the only way you could get the kind of nerves of steel necessary for that," she said laughingly. "I know my brothers would never do it, they'd be too afraid I'd decide to miss if they ever made me angry." 

Well, this is a pleasant change, he thought as he watched her pour him a drink. Not only is she not going out of her way to bargain more money out of me, she actually seems to be making pleasantries. Trowa wasn't normally one for holding a conversation, but a few years with his sister had made him appreciate banter over breakfast. And since he was curious about the little mercenary who was currently holding him for ransom he said

"So you have brothers, how many?" he asked conversationally. Missy looked guarded for a minute, but seemed to decide that it was alright to tell him.

"Three younger ones," she said cautiously.

"That must be why you're so interested in money," he hazarded.

Missy nodded and bit into one of her fried cakes, probably to buy herself time. Trowa could tell that she was uncomfortable with the conversation and wasn't surprised when she turned it back on him.

"So how many siblings do you have?"

"Just one," he said candidly. "Actually she's really more my adopted sister. We found each other during the war in 195."

"No other family then?"

"No. And you?"

"Yes, I have my father as well."

Trowa wasn't aware if she noticed that her face had clouded over with worry when she said that. Yesterday she'd been so mistrusting and guarded, today she seemed to have let some of her walls down. He idly wondered what he would find if he could ever peel back all of her shields and walls. He shook himself out of his inappropriate musings and continued with the thread of conversation.

"A father and three brothers," he said. Something nagged at him when he said that. It was just there on the edge of his thoughts, but like trying to net a fish, every time he thought he had it, it would dart away again to hide back in the murky depths of his memory.

"Yes," she replied. "They can be a pain sometimes, especially the eldest one who's going through his rebellious teenage years, but they're worth everything."

Trowa said nothing more, and his companion Missy seemed content to simply sit with him in silence while they shared breakfast. That was rare, most women he'd met, including his sister Catherine, hated quiet and would happily chatter away about this or that until its conclusion. This was a nice change of pace. He glanced surreptitiously over at the girl he called Missy, she looked lovely sitting there across from him. Her perfect lips were stretched into a smile of gustatory delight as she bit into her fried cake, the simple white house dress she wore fell in elegant folds, like a Grecian tunic, emphasizing her slim form. Her pale gold hair was half down and half up, with two long bangs framing either side of her face and nearly shielding her eyes, the day before they'd been brushed to one side of her face but now there was something even more hauntingly familiar about her. 

When she was through Missy smiled pleasantly at him and said she'd be back from her errands as soon as possible. Trowa nodded and she slipped quietly out the door. 

All my missions should be this easy, he thought in amusement. All I've done so far is lain around in bed. He was going to become spoiled by all of this ease. On the other hand, he was still feeling more than a little drained. But the part of him that wanted to be out there and active was overruled by the voice of caution, there was no telling how much activity he could take before falling into a relapse. However, that did not mean he couldn't do any work. He pulled out his palmtop and accessed the netlinks, even if he couldn't be out there where the action was for the moment, he _could_ still get something done and he was quite curious to know just how good that bounty hunter Shadowblade really was.


	6. Capture and A New Hope

* 

It fell out mostly as she had planned. She ran into a few complications; namely the house had also been patrolled by mastiffs (chloroform took care of them) and Kaneda was wearing a breather mask (a very exciting and drawn out fight with a skilled swordsman that lasted until she finally managed to scratch him with one of her sleep darts before he stuck her with his poison). But on the whole the thievery of Kaneda had gone quite well. No one had really expected an attack in broad daylight, thieves and bounty hunters usually stuck to the shadows, so Midii wasn't surprised when they didn't see her walking lightly across the tightrope connecting the run down old mansion with the industrial building next door to it. 

Once on the rooftops it had been a simple matter to hang upside down four stories above the paved ground and crack the digital code lock on the window from the outside using a scrambler (a nifty little device that could tap into the wires of a security lock and go through the number line until it found a match, then send the electric impulses into the lock itself via the electric wire that fooled the lock into thinking the number had been punched in from the inside). When she was on the inside of the house Midii had discovered a pack of snarling dogs beneath her open window, before they could bark and sound the alarm she'd already thrown them a chloroform bomb and they'd dropped off instantly. After a sigh of relief she'd slipped into the nearest vent and followed it to the main system. Her costume for the day came complete with built-in breather mask/ voice coder and handy little gadgets for any good cat burglar. In a matter of minutes the concentrated liquid form of the sleeping gas had turned to vapor and permeated the mansion via the vent system. Midii proceeded straight through the vent system to the room in which Kaneda and his henchmen had holed themselves away in. That was when she'd discovered her second unpleasant surprise. Kaneda was prepared. They'd had a long drawn out fight, his bladed weapons against hers until she'd at last managed to shoot him with a dart. As predicted, he was quite heavy. Midii usually only had to worry about the head, not the body that was attached to it. She'd lifted him onto her shoulder and strained to pick him up and carry him away. He was almost too heavy for her to bear but she managed to make it back to her window. It was times like those that she sometimes wished she really were a man, she wouldn't have had as mush difficulty getting him out of there. The trip back was surprisingly easy, she'd taken the cord she'd used for the tightrope and slanted it from a higher point of the roof, then simply slid down suspended from a pulley to the lower rooftop of the factory (or whatever it had been, it was abandoned now too.) She'd stripped him down and checked him for weapons, then bound him securely and stuffed him into the back of the car. She'd driven off with no sign of pursuit and had him set up in her special cell before he woke up.

She had him securely bound and still unconscious now, hanging by his manacled arms in a bare cement room with a single steel-reinforced door and no light. When he woke up he would hear the sound of five or six guards stationed outside his door, complete with trading shifts. The recording could go on for days,  and with no way to verify whether there actually were or were not real flesh- and-blood guards out there, with any luck he might decide to just wait around for his opportunity to strike. Since Midii didn't plan to keep him alive very long, having him 'wait around to strike' was exactly what she was hoping for. 

It does look kind of harsh though, she thought with a pang of conscience as she looked at the mostly naked form suspended from the ceiling by his wrists. His clothes had been taken as a precaution against him hiding weapons or lock picks in them. He sort of resembled a slab of beef hanging in a butcher's refrigerator. He was much too thin, even if his ribs did stick out with his head lolled to one side and his eyes closed he looked so pathetic. What would that tall Preventor guy, Trowa Barton, think of her when he saw him hanging up there like that?

Nothing, she told herself. You don't pity your quarry, you kill them. What does it matter what it _looks_ like if it keeps the target from escaping? You're going to kill him anyway idiot. You can't afford to go getting soft just because of a pair of gorgeous eyes that could put pure emeralds to shame. Oh Hell.

She'd better not be going soft. She couldn't afford the quality of mercy in her line of work! She needed to be able to kill people with detachment otherwise she'd never be able to make it as a bounty hunter. Soft equaled dead in her profession. If she started with the pangs of guilt every time she took out a target pretty soon she'd start worrying over the ethics of every little thing she did and then she'd freeze up at the wrong moment… and then she'd be dead. Her life might suck, but Midii did not want to die. She just couldn't wrestle up that kind of apathy when there were people in her life that she lived and fought to protect. 

Just remember your family Midii, she coached herself, trying to push away the crushing sense of guilt and pain that always seemed to hover nearby waiting to strike. Everything is for them, all for them. The bounty on this guy's head will go a long way toward alleviating the debt for good. Then you'll all be free.

Still…

She sighed, then picked up a thin warm blanket and wrapped it toga-style around him, tying it in a knot at his left shoulder. A blanket wouldn't hurt, the room was quite chill.

Che! Picking up stray Preventors instead of chasing down then killing my rightful bounty, on top of that offering to go to the enormous trouble of kidnapping and securing him just so the man can ask him a few questions… and now I'm giving blankets to my prey. What next, raffling off my gun collection to charity?

With a final shake of her head, Midii shut the iron door and locked it. She'd bring the Preventor tomorrow so he could question Kaneda and be on his way, right now she had to grab dinner on the way home from her "errands" and go back to being Missy.

She was a little surprised by how much she was looking forward to going back to that safehaven. Usually she didn't think anything about them, she just went back there to grab a few hours of sleep before she went back out to hunt down and kill people. She didn't think about how lonely an existence it was, being all alone with no one there to talk to when things got rough… she was just there for a little while until she could make enough money to go back home. 

Because her trips back home were few and far between she treasured every moment she got to spend with her family. Alex, at fifteen, was the confidant one. He liked to spend his free time hanging out with his friends after school; they were a rowdy bunch in to thrill-seeking and demented fun. Jason, the second youngest, was fourteen. He was a little more subdued but still spent a lot of his time hanging out with his older brother and their friends, he also liked to play baseball, however he could be counted on to help out more around the house and he got reasonably good grades in school. Michael was the baby of the family. At twelve years old he was still very much a child even though he sometimes acted very grown up. He was very intelligent, that was what all of his teachers said, but unfortunately he was also very weak, almost sickly. Midii's mother had died a few short weeks after giving birth to him and Michael had never been very strong. He was sweet and gentle, and helped out as much as he could. He took a lot after their father, who was gentle and kind, who'd never raised a hand to any of them and who could always be depended on to be loving and supportive. 

Perhaps none of them deserved all the terrible things that happened to them, but who ever said the universe was fair? Midii did the best she could to cope with an already bad situation, and if it came down to it she knew she'd probably still continue to choose the health and safety of her family over anything and everything else. She'd already been responsible directly or indirectly for the deaths of a lot of people because she needed to keep them fed and cared for, what other choice was there? If she gave it all up now then that would make all of her previous sacrifices meaningless. But Midii made certain that she would be the only one to carry that kind of guilt, she would make any sacrifice necessary to ensure that she was the only one who knew that kind of pain. Her family would never know what she went through, would never know her pain, her anguish, her guilt, not if she had anything to say about it. She wanted them all to be happy and that was worth any price to her, even her own happiness, maybe even her own life. 

But I'm getting so tired of being lonely almost all the rest of the time, she thought wistfully. It would be nice… 

She cut herself off.

Don't even go there, she ordered herself. Remember all those rules I learned as a spy? They will keep me alive. If I ever actually got involved with someone it could jeopardize everything if he ever found out who I really am and what I do. That's nuts! Spies and bounty hunters work alone if they don't want to get stabbed in the back.

Well that young Preventor seemed decent enough. He was attractive too… incredibly attractive, with that tall lean frame and those muscled arms and-

She cut herself off again. That was even more than stupid. She couldn't get involved with _him_! For one thing he worked for the Preventors, or another thing, he was entirely too observant for her comfort. From all she'd heard, Lady Une was not in the business of hiring fools. Her employee, especially if he was one of the Elites, might just be intelligent enough to add two and two together and get four. No, the sooner she was rid of him, the better. Tonight would be the last dinner she shared with him; after that they would go their separate ways and never see each other again. She was well rid of him. Then all of those odd feelings she got when he was nearby, or hell even when she was merely thinking about him, would go away. Out of sight, out of mind. Right?

* * * 

Trowa rubbed eyes that had grown tired from staring at the tiny screen of his palmtop for so long. He hadn't been able to find out anything about the bounty hunter Shadowblade aside of how much money he'd made in the course of his career. Kaneda had been relatively easy to track now that he had a better idea of what he was looking for. But as for his mysterious Missy, well it looked like she was going to remain a complete enigma. 

He just couldn't shake that oddly haunting feeling of familiarity he got every time he looked at her. If he were to be perfectly honest with himself, familiarity wasn't the _only_ feeling he got when he looked at her… He found her more than a little attractive, but getting intimately involved with her was out of the question. He knew nothing about her, aside of the fact that she worked for a bounty hunter. She could be an enemy… he didn't know where she went or what she did when she went out all day on specious "errands." Besides, she was probably already involved with that bounty hunter she worked for. He still had no idea why he was so hung up on that fact. 

Mind off the female, he ordered himself. 

 It was no wonder he spent so much time mulling over the inconsequential; with absolutely no activity for the whole day, Trowa was going stir crazy. The poison had to be out of his system by now; he'd always been a fast healer. He had to at least get a little movement in his limbs, they were quite stiff from what was for him a long period of inactivity. That decided, he rolled to his feet and began stretching. As he ran through the routine of simple limbering and warm-up exercises the last effects of the poison seemed to recede from his mind and body, his reflexes kicked back in and his head felt like it was finally clear for the first time in two days. 

Trowa had found that he enjoyed physical activity, he liked the feeling of his limbs moving perfectly under his command, liked the satisfaction he got as each of his sets were performed perfectly… hell, he even liked to be admired a bit; deep down he felt a certain amount of smug self-pride in the glances and sometimes outright stares sent his way when he trained or worked on his routines. Trixie, the trick pony rider, always found a way to be somewhere nearby when he was running through his warm up gymnastics and she was usually joined by two or more of the female crowd by the time he was halfway through. The tiny apartment he found himself in was way to small to do gymnastics, so Trowa had to content himself with stretches and some sustained handstands.

He was so involved in his routine that he only vaguely registered the fact that the woman sharing his temporary abode had returned and it hadn't even occurred to him that finding him standing on one hand on top of the small coffee table while juggling three balls with his free hand while he was upside down might startle his caregiver in the least. In the place he called home, it wasn't so unusual. 

"Wow," she said, sounding impressed. "You really _do_ work for the circus." 

Trowa looked over at her to find her eyes shyly averted and her face flushed. He was puzzled for a second; then he remembered that he'd discarded his shirt at the beginning of his impromptu work out. So she was embarrassed by that huh? That didn't fit the image he had of a bounty hunters mistress, perhaps they were no more than partners after all. "He's my other half," was a curious answer to the question of how the two of them were involved. That could mean anything from 'they had a serious relationship/possible marriage' to 'they were merely tight working partners.' And why was he thinking about that again?

"Yes," he replied as he casually tossed all three balls up into the air then rolled off the edge of the coffee table to his feet and caught the balls without even looking. 

"You certainly look and sound like your health has improved greatly," Missy said as she pulled out another bag of take-out, deli this time. 

"The last of Kaneda's poison appears to have left my system," he said quietly, toweling his face off then donning his shirt so the young woman could stop examining the tabletop with such fascination.

"You're a very fast healer then," she said as she automatically served them both. The economy of movement she had as she set their dinners up and the way she made even the most simple meal at least attempt to appear attractive told him that she served in the capacity of hostess or something along those lines regularly. That would fit in with the assumption that she was also a professional mistress, but there were too many other things that did not fit that particular scenario. 

Trowa silently nodded his thanks as she passed him his plate. 

"Good," she said promptly as she quickly made her own meal. "Then you'll be recovered enough to go and have a little chat with Kaneda tomorrow. Shadowblade caught him today. He said the sooner you get through with your questions, the sooner we can get our money. The streets between here and where he's being kept are too dangerous for even you and I to wander at night, so he wants me to bring you to see the man early tomorrow."

"That was certainly fast," Trowa said softly. 

"You don't get to be known as one of the best in this business only running on luck," said Midii. "There's skill involved too. Shadowblade is good at what he does."

Trowa felt another jolt of familiarity slam through him. He knew her! He'd seen her somewhere before. There was something about her voice: something in that tone that, while on the surface was casual and innocuous enough, carried deep ripples of underlying emotions; entire lifetimes of words left unsaid, unspoken anguish, unwept tears. She was hiding something from him, something big and something possibly dangerous. It was this that gave Trowa further incentive to speak with her instead of falling into silence as he usually did.

"And how long will Shadowblade continue doing what he does?" he questioned around their meal. 

"I don't know for certain," she said. Again Trowa felt that there was more to that simple sentence than she was letting on. 

"Well what happens to you when he decides he's had enough of the fighting life? Or when he runs out of luck?"

Missy laughed at something only she knew about and said

"If you're concerned over what happens when Shadowblade and I go our separate ways then you needn't be. This arrangement will only last as long as it's necessary. And even if something unfortunate were to happen to Shadowblade or me, everything would be taken care of. People like me and Shadowblade really aren't worth anything alive."

The vague wisp of memory or dream almost solidified right there. Trowa knew he'd heard that somewhere before. He almost had it figured out, where he knew the woman from, but the harder he tried to will it to the fore of his mind the more it slipped away. It was frustrating. He almost wanted to just get it out and ask the girl if she recognized him from anywhere. One look at her neatly and efficiently clearing her plate squashed that notion; she'd probably take it wrong. He didn't want to set her on her guard or he'd never get to the bottom of things.

"Besides," she continued, oblivious to his inner struggle. "I always land on my feet."

"We have something in common then," he said making an obvious reference to his gymnastic skills. Missy rolled her eyes playfully and smiled. She had a lovely smile, the kind that lit her face from within and made her pretty blue eyes sparkle.

"I meant that figuratively," she clarified. Trowa looked amused. She turned the tables on him.

"So you're a Preventor Elite and you're how old?"

"About twenty-one at anyone's guess," he replied, he decided to toss her some information about himself in the hopes that candor would bring forth candor. There was something about her that made him want to trust her and made him want her trust in return. "I don't actually know my real age or birthdate, just an approximate reckoning based on the growth of my bones when they found me."

"I see. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pried," said Missy apologetically.

"No, it's a perfectly harmless question," he said reassuringly. "Most who meet me do think I look too young to hold and elite position on a fighting force."

"I know how that feels. No one ever expects me to be as accomplished as I am at my age either. I suppose that makes us both prodigies." Missy smiled again, and he found that he really liked it when she did. It was odd that he should be so immediately taken with her, everything about her fascinated him. Perhaps it was her air of mystery, or even the frustrating sense of familiarity he felt whenever he looked at her; but Trowa just couldn't stop himself from thinking about her, from covertly studying her face whenever she wasn't paying attention. She'd been quite distracted last night, so he was almost certain that he had every curve of her face committed to memory, and then she'd smiled at him today and the whole view changed.

"So how does your family feel about your… prodigious-ness?" Trowa ventured.

"Father worries, of course, but there really aren't any other options right now," Missy said. "How about yours?"

"Catherine's dislike of my being called off to fight in every major dust-up is legendary among my comrades," Trowa said with an amused look. "They tend to give me a hard time about how protective she is, but her heart is always in the right place."

"If one of my younger brothers ever even _thought_ about joining the Preventors and going out to risk their lives fighting, you can bet that I'd change their minds for them _real quick_."

Trowa almost chuckled. Missy, it seemed, was more inclined to sympathize with Catherine. From her statement it sounded like she took her role as the elder sister seriously.

"The way you say that makes you sound very formidable," Trowa said. He was teasing her in his own deadpan way.

"When it comes to my family I am very formidable," Missy replied lightly.

Interesting, he thought. Even though her tone was light, Trowa caught an undertone of seriousness in her voice. If he supposed that she and Shadowblade were truly no more than partners then he had a pretty good idea of where her cut of the take went to. And even if she was Shadowblade's mistress it was still likely that she was using her position to protect her family in some way. But that would beg the question 'what was she protecting them from?' Was it Shadowblade himself, or some other outside party? What if she was mistress to the bounty hunter out of fear for her family?

Trowa gave a small shake o his head to clear it. All of those scenarios and presumptions based on little information would get him no where. Still, Trowa could not help wondering just what kind of work she did for Shadowblade that would have her out running errands all day and working away on he palmtop late into the night. Something just didn't add up.

And when did it become my business anyway? he reminded himself. I'm only here in Hanjok to accomplish the mission of getting information out of Kaneda. I get what I came for tomorrow, and we go our separate ways. There's no sense in trying to unravel her mystery since I'm never going to see her again. Trowa shoved the vague sense of disappointment he felt at that reminder far back into the corner of his mind. He shouldn't be bothered by the thought of never again seeing a stranger he had only known for two days. But he was, and he didn't know why.

* * * 

Dinner had gone well. Midii found to her surprise that her guest was actually good company, he wasn't overly invasive which saved her from a lot of inventive truth-shading and he was quite attractive. He was possessed of an animal magnetism that drew her to him almost against her will, maybe it was his quiet, maybe it was his easy grace and incredible physique, it could even be the way she sometimes felt that she'd met him before… 

Well whatever it was it made Midii reluctant to part with him so quickly. Instead of retiring to her separate chamber immediately after she had finished her meal Midii had felt compelled by his innate allure to stay there with him. After all, she'd reasoned to herself, he had been alone all day… She could keep him company for a while. It turned out that neither of them were terribly adept at conversational skills. Midii spent most of her time alone, when she wasn't with her family, she had no friends to speak of and her short childhood was hardly whay anyone could call normal. Ordinary things like holding pleasantries and entertaining a guest were things she'd never had the leisure time to pick up on. Still, they'd both been making a valiant effort at small talk it seemed to go better than she'd been expecting. The long silences weren't really even uncomfortable. Midii managed to evade his infrequent attempts to find anything out about Shadowblade though Mister Barton had been surprised when she told him that he wouldn't be meeting her "partner" tomorrow. Since there was no possible way she could be in two places at once Midii just told the Preventor that Shadowblade never met with his clients, preferring instead to let her do all of the dealing.

"Isn't that a little dangerous?" he'd questioned. "If you work for a bounty hunter, the clients you deal with are not all going to be savory characters. What about your safety, or does he simply not care?"

"Shadowblade protects me and mine in his own way," she'd replied. "As for the danger, it comes with the territory and I knew that when I started this business. I can take care of myself Mister Barton; but it is sweet of you to be concerned."

He'd let that one slide into silence again, as he'd absently juggled the three hacky-sack balls with one hand and Midii had watched. He'd turned it into an impromptu show by adding in a fork, a kitchen knife, two cups and her hairbrush. Midii had been unable to refrain from applauding when he'd finished and she'd asked

"So what's it like working in the circus?"

"It's rewarding," he'd replied. "I work with my sister, and she really loves to perform so I suppose the audience picks up on her enthusiasm."

"And what about you? Do you like to perform?" 

He'd looked over at her for a minute, Midii wasn't quite sure why, but then said

"I like to work with animals, and my family is there. The circus is the place I go home to."

Midii had nodded and silence had fallen between them again. Their conversations had been stilted at best, but Midii hadn't even known how much she craved human contact until she'd started sharing this small flat with her patient-for-ransom. Even sitting next to him in silence was a lot more than she usually got while she was away on her hunts. She really missed her family while she was away, her life was hard and not very forgiving… Even if she couldn't afford to tell him anything about herself it was a tremendous relief just be able to go to a safe place and see a friendly face waiting for her. It felt good just to have someone near. Perhaps when she was done here in Hanjok she'd look into finding herself a partner… 

Nah. Bad idea, she decided after a moments thought. All the rules of espionage still applied, spies and bounty hunters worked alone for a very good reason. She had to stay alive and continue taking care of her family, and if she wanted to stay alive and keep her secrets safe, then she had better continue working alone. 

I almost feel sorry he's leaving so soon tomorrow, Midii thought with an unusual twinge of what could be read as regret. He'd been the closest thing to what she might remotely come calling close to a friend that she'd had in a very, very long time.

Faugh! I really must be getting soft around the edges. This guy's a meal ticket, nothing more. 

That was another thing that was off about tonight… Usually she'd be counting her credits and going over her accounts in order to stretch every last penny, or going over the Lists looking for a likely target for her next hunt; but instead she was lying on her back staring up at the ceiling and thinking about her unexpected (yet not at all unattractive) guest. Midii would have given herself an irritated look in the mirror if she'd had a mirror anywhere nearby. She had other things she needed to be doing than wasting her time thinking about some stranger whom she had every intention of milking for everything he was worth and then some.

Lessee, I settled on five hundred fifty for the ransom, then there's the sixty thousand for Kaneda's head, but Trowa and I still haven't worked out a price for the information he's getting, plus there's the capturing fee. Kaneda was an awful damned lot of trouble to capture after all, and the stern merchant-businesswoman in me cannot accept making all of that effort for free. I'd better hit him with those two after we get to the cell but before I let him in; he'll be more likely to agree to the higher price I name if his destination is within sight, she thought condideringly. Haggling for a better price was so habitual it was second nature to her now. All her years as a bounty hunter had honed her money-contract-negotiating skills down to a razor edge so fine it could (and often did) split hairs. She knew every last trick in the trade, and dangling the carrot before his nose was a well known yet effective tactic.

I think I'll shoot for a nice round one thousand as a capture fee, and as for that information access charge I'll practically give it to him for a mere four hundred and fifty. I can afford to be generous after all since I'm getting that nice fat bounty for Kaneda's head. Just the thought of all of that cash made her shiver and smile with delight in the dark. One got one's joys where one could. 

Greedy? Oh, just a little.

With a sudden flash of inspiration, Midii sprung up from her sleeping roll and opened her palmtop. Once the screen sprang to life she called up the file in which she kept all of the accounts and opened the folder in which she kept a running tally of her Consortium debt. Usually she had the current total memorized down to the last penny, but lately she'd just been concentrating on making her payments on time as well as the other various minutiae she had to keep track of.

Current amount owed… Seventy-eight thousand five hundred eighty-two point fifty one credits. That… I could… That means…

Midii wasn't able to grasp it for a moment, she stared at the screen, stunned, her mind trying to work its way though the dawning hope and confirm it for her own self. It was within her grasp. It seemed like a dream! After so many long years of laboring under the yoke of Consortium debt; to finally be free! It was within her grasp… Just one more day, just one more day. Midii felt tears of happiness sting the back of her eyes; she hadn't cried in so long but she almost did then out of sheer joy and relief. 

Tomorrow she'd take Trowa Barton to meet Kaneda and ask him his questions, she and Mister Barton would go their separate ways, after which she'd behead Kaneda (she already had the cryo-box and sword standing by) and cash in the bounty. With the ten-thousand seven-hundred ninety-six point forty-seven credits in her account already, plus the sixty-thousand Kaneda was worth, added to the money she intended to gauge from the pockets of the Preventors….

I'll have enough! I'll have even more than enough! I'll… I'll finally be free!

She very nearly leapt to her feet and started to dance a jig around her tiny sleeping quarters. As it was, Midii couldn't contain a little squeak of excitement. It had been well over ten years since she'd started down the path to pay off her family's debt and she'd been working at it for so long she almost believed that she'd never pay it off. It seemed like it had just always been there, a looming specter, like the sword of Damocles it had hung over her head for so many long years that Midii had wondered from time to time if the faint memories she had of a happy and carefree childhood in which there was no debt for her to work towards were nothing more than something she'd made up. 

A life in which there was no debt, in which she was free (for the most part) to make her own decisions seemed almost too incredible to believe. Compared to the life she'd been leading up until now, covering the food and bills and medical expenses for just herself and her family would be childsplay! Hell, she could do it on the salary earned by the Preventors and still have money to spare and the Preventors wasn't as demanding a job as being a bounty hunter could be. She could do anything now! All the dazzling possibilities she'd pushed aside under the heading "after the debt is paid off" now sparkled before her eyes. Attending a university, going shopping, dancing, staying at home with her family, helping her brothers with their work, or even… opening a business of her own. 

In a daze of real, true happiness Midii spent hours that night letting fantasy after fantasy of her life after her debt play out in her mind. For the first time in years filled with grief and pain, Midii fell asleep with a smile on her lips that night. 


	7. Shadowblade and Missy

Trowa looked at the thick steel-reinforced door in the thick bare cement wall of the dingy nondescript building that lay deep in the center of the bad side of town. There was a series of locks going up and down the door and the seven thick steel door hinges opposite the lock were welded directly to the door and cemented into the wall on the other half. It was a prison cell no one was supposed to get out of. 

It's depressing to think that this place is the last place the Kaneda is ever going to see, Trowa thought absently. The missie had woken him up rather early that morning and hurried him out of the flat to go finish up the rest of his mission. There had been something a little different about her this morning, almost as if she'd had a renewed sense of purpose. Her quick, decisive strides would have left him hurrying along in her wake if he hadn't had long legs. He recalled the way the calf-length charcoal-black sleeveless long-coat that she wore over a fashionably sleek dark grey coverall that accentuated her curvy figure fluttered behind her in the early morning wind. The heels of her boots had made very soft muffled sounds as she'd moved. Her hair was pinned up onto her head in an efficient twist, even her bangs were clipped back this morning and she looked very business-like. This must be the girl Missy was the entire rest of the time.

She stopped without opening the door and Trowa looked down at her impatiently. She'd hurried him here almost at the crack of dawn barely stopping for food; why was she stopping now?

"I want one thousand five hundred as a capturing fee and seven hundred as the charge for access to Kaneda," she said spinning on her heel to face him abruptly.

Oh, she's not starting this mercenary money haggling business with me again is she? Trowa thought in dismay and irritation. Just when he thought she'd been starting to warm up to him a little she snaps back into heartless miser mode. Maybe she really did have her heart in her wallet after all.

"You want two thousand two hundred credits just to let me see him?" Trowa said in disbelief. 

"No, I want seven hundred credits just to let you see him," Missie clarified. "The other one thousand five hundred is for the immense bother and difficulty of capturing him and holding him here for you. Me and my partner went to a great deal of trouble, Kaneda is no easy man to apprehend."

"I assume this includes my ransom in it," Trowa said indignantly.

"Of course not," she said, her tone matching his. "This fee is in addition to your ransom… This is where you make your counter-offer."

"Oh, I see, you're haggling," Trowa said, a little relived that she didn't really intend to make the Preventors pay that much. He was making inroads on their funds as it was. The look Missy gave him plainly said she thought that the poison must still be affecting his wits.

"Very well then," he said. "Six hundred for the capture and two hundred for the fee." That sounded reasonable enough.

"Don't make me laugh," Missy said scornfully. "It's worth twice that. I was just going easy on you because you're a sick man."

"You must think I'm very sick if you think I'll fall for that old tactic," Trowa said firmly. Deep down he was really starting to enjoy this. Missy seemed to become more alive, her entire form sharpened with challenge (or was that avarice?) and her gaze switched to the eagle-sharp stare of a predator focused on its prey. It would have been disconcerting to see a girl he'd been spending the last two peaceful evenings with pleasantly suddenly turn off her nicer self and become all business if Trowa were not well familiar with masks. The question was, which was the mask and which the real girl? Or were they both masks? 

"One thousand two hundred fifty for the capture and six hundred forty five for the fee," Missy countered. "This includes danger pay and holding expenses."

"Holding expenses?" trowa said incredulously, raising an eyebrow. "In an abandoned and condemned jail building? Who are you going to pay exactly?"

"There are local, shall we call them businessmen, who have prior claim on this particular piece of turf," Missy said. "One must go through channels."

"Protection racket," he stated bluntly.

"Something like that," Missy said, not at all bothered. Her offhanded callousness and careless demeanor were really beginning to irk him.

"Fine, One thousand one hundred for the capture and five hundred for the fee, that more than enough," he said briskly, just wanting to get this over with. Missy looked surprised, for the first time all morning and nodded, extending her hand in the age old method for sealing a deal. Trowa was surprised to note how very firm her handshake was and in that brief contact as the skin of her palm met the skin of his… he felt calluses. 

It was his turn to feel surprised, but as usual not a flicker of emotion played across his perfect poker face. Before he could begin to consider what the calluses on her hands might mean Missy began unlocking the door. The only light in the room was the long, wide strip that grew as she opened the door. Hanging there in the center of the room by his wrists was Kaneda. He glared over at them and said

"Can't a fellow get any uninterrupted sleep around here?" 

Trowa could tell he was using it as bravado, as a way to get them both off guard.

Missy stepped over and injected him in the neck with a syringe, then backed quickly away.

"Truth serum," she stated bluntly. "He hasn't eaten or drank for twelve hours so it'll spread quickly. I'm not up to making any other kind of interrogation today. This will make things go more speedily."

Trowa nodded his thanks, the Preventors were not technically supposed to question anyone while they were under the influence of drugs or without an attorney but Trowa felt no such problem in this case Missy had been the one who injected him and Shadowblade would be killing him later. He began with the questions. As predicted Kaneda had at first refused to answer, then, as the serum started to take effect, he'd started making replies but they'd been lies mixed with truth. Unfortunately for Kaneda, Trowa already had a pretty good idea of what was true and what was false. At the end of an hour Kaneda had been singing like a cage full of canaries and Trowa noted that his operations were more extensive than Une or the Preventors had at first predicted. They got everything they wanted and then some; this was worth the money.

Missy stood throughout the entirety of Kaneda's interrogation without a flicker of expression on her face. Trowa hadn't even had to threaten to touch him; the stuff she'd injected him with had been powerful indeed. As Trowa turned to walk out of the cell he heard the clink of chains. He was shoved aside by the little missie as Kaneda threw something that flashed in the sharp light offered by the doorway. 

"Gotcha!" Kaneda shouted triumphantly as he sprang for the door. Trowa hadn't felt a thing. So that meant…

Missy pulled a tiny thin blade that could be hidden in the hair from her breast. She gasped and froze, Trowa was too tangled in her limbs to do more than watch as Kaneda made for the door.

"No!" Missy suddenly screamed, moving to stop her prisoner from escaping. She disentagled herself quickly, shoved off from his chest, knocking him bodily into the ground, and used the momentum of her shove to propel her into a spring. From out of nowhere a long blade flashed into her hand as she charged at the drugged and running Kaneda. It was all over in a mere few seconds, there was a flash of light reflecting off metal, then the splatter of blood hitting the opposite wall. Kaneda's body toppled to the floor, and so did the little missie's. 

"Poison…" She gasped. "Gotta…" Trowa watched in shock as she resolutely snatched Kaneda's disembodied head by the hair and crawled on her hands and knees, obviously just barely hanging into consciousness as the deadly venom worked into her system with fatal surety. There was a cryogenic container such as one used to transport organs over in one corner. Missy jabbed her finger at the button to open it, there was a rolling fog of liquid nitrogen gas the hatch released. With the last of her strength, Missy stuffed the head into the cryo-box and pressed the button to seal it. She hovered over the box, her eyes closed and she held it to her chest in a death-grip.

With shaking hands, she drew a small syringe from her sleeve.

"Anti-venom…" she rasped out as the vial fell from her hands with an echoing tink-tink-tink. She slumped forward. 

"This takes greed to a whole new level," Trowa muttered as he hurried to her side, snatched up the vial and plunged it into her flesh. 

She takes a poison hit that she knows will kill her in under a minute, Trowa thought furiously as he watched intently for any sign that the anti-venom was taking effect and that she was going to make it. Then she chases down and kills Kaneda and _then_ she boxes up his head and only _then_ does she try to cure herself. Crazy greedy little pirate. 

Trowa tugged on the cryo-container in her arms… It wasn't going anywhere. Apparently Missy took her greed very seriously. Even near death wasn't parting her from her bounty. He tugged again, if it wasn't so tragic, it would be funny. There was no way she was letting go of that box; he'd probably have to snap her arms off at the shoulders to get it away from her.

I guess that means she's going to live, Trowa thought with just a small, grudging smidgeon of respect. It was a running joke among mercenaries that the only way one could truly be certain they were dead was if they'd stopped collecting their pay. The little missie was mercenary to the core.

And that's one further mystery cleared up, Trowa thought in mild inner triumph as he calmly gathered her and her cryo container up in his arms and walked out of the jail cell, leaving the blood and body to cool on the floor. 

The missie here doesn't work for Shadowblade, nor is she his mistress. With the way I saw her move and the way she quickly and cleanly killed Kaneda, and also the fact that she had weapons calluses on her hands… it can only lead to one conclusion. The little missie _is _the bounty hunter Shadowblade. "Shadowblade is my other half" very clever. I would not have expected to take her words literally.

They reached the flat quickly, Trowa laid his unconscious burden down on the pallet in her room. Their roles now appeared to be reversed. She had dragged him here and tended him when he'd been poisoned (though the fact that her tiny little form had handled his much larger and heavy body was a bit of a shocker) and now he had brought her to the little flat after she'd been poisoned.

Now that I know she has no partner, I also know that there won't be anyone to take care of her if I should leave. I guess the little missie didn't think of that one, did she?

He should just deposit her in a hospital somewhere and be done with her. But then there was the awkward question of the cryo-box and the head inside of it. How was he supposed to explain that one to the authorities? 

Trowa shrugged. It was only a few more days… He'd call Une and report the information he'd gotten; then he'd just stick around here until Missy-Shadowblade got better. It wouldn't take more than a week probably. 

* * *


	8. Revelations and Confrontations

Trowa was aware that her health could possibly get worse before it got better, and if that became the case… well he'd just have to call in a few favors with an associate or two of his. Sally would most likely take a look without asking too many questions if he indicated that discretion was in order. If worst came to worst there was a small, state-of-the-art hospice on the grounds of the Preventors HQ they might not ask any questions either out of deference for Trowa's rank. Rank had its privileges alright. First things first he had to find a way to get her fever down; she was warming up way too fast and even with the administration of the anti-venom there was no guarantee that it would be the right kind. Kaneda might just have decided to use something really obscure, something that a general anti-venom wouldn't take care of. Granted the odds were slim, but the possibility existed. The sooner he helped her to recover the sooner he could leave this place and return home. Besides, she nursed him, so it was only right to return the favor.

She certainly looked young, lying so limply in his arms… and oddly vulnerable, which was at odds with what he knew of her character. 

She must have the first-aid supplies she used for me lying around here somewhere. I'll bet she's already packed it away so I'd best start by looking through her things for it. With that he padded softly over to her room and pulled out her small carry-bag of belongings.

Trowa riffled through the scant belongings in the very well worn (practically tattered) cari-sak Missy kept in her quarters looking for the medical supplies she surely kept. On the top there was mostly clothes, and a well worn paperback book, under it she kept the special gear she used as Shadowblade minus the weapons which were mostly likely in a hidden compartment or something along those lines. In the very botton Trowa discovered a few meager personal possessions. The box which he had taken to be the medical kit was actually the box she kept her keepsakes in. The first thing he saw had made him nearly drop the box in surprise. 

A picture frame. Not of itself so uncommon; he traveled with one of his sister Catherine while he went on dangerous missions himself. The picture contained four tiny figures; a young girl of about ten with a two year old on one hip and a four year old climbing over her back. Off to one side sat a frail-looking man in a wheelchair with a cast one one leg and another little boy who was holding the girl's hand. They were all smiling or caught mid-laugh and it was easy to see the closeness and unity of the small family group. Even the girl was laughing, her lovely blue eyes lit up from within. But the fact that the young girl in the picture was the same young woman who lay unconscious nearby was not what shocked him into a gasp. The surprising thing was that he knew that face. He knew the girl in the picture. Midii Une.

Trowa shook his head in disbelief. It was impossible, too great a coincidence. Two virtual strangers who'd meant something to one another as children didn't suddenly bump into each other as adults. Things like that didn't happen. Therefore, since things like that didn't happen, that woman was not Midii Une. It couldn't be.

The box dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers and scattered its few contents to the floor in front of him. Two more picture frames…and a cross tumbled out of the little package. It was the cross that immediately caught his eye, shining up the reflected light of mid-day at him. He stared down at it in shock. 

If he'd been looking for a divine sign of confirmation there was nothing more undeniable than this. He'd worn that cross. As a boy he'd treasured it, memorizing every plane and angle, the weight, the feel… believing that it had come from someone who'd cared about him just a little. He still recalled the cold feeling that had surrounded his heart when he'd found out that everything he'd believed it had represented, trust, friendship, compassion, had all been a lie. He could still feel the tug at the base of his neck from when he'd snapped the chain off and cast the transmitter at the feet of the friend who'd betrayed him. He thought she'd given it to him because she wanted him to have some kind of protection, even if it was only in her mind; he'd thought that Midii Une had wanted him to come back alive from battle because she cared about what happened to him. She hadn't cared; she'd only been doing her job. He'd shot the cross as a symbol. Midii had given it to him under false pretenses of friendship and he'd destroyed it as a way of repudiating her. He'd burned that bridge behind him and walked away. 

There is no denying it now, he thought darkly. That girl, the one who hides her work behind the mask of Shadowblade, that girl is Midii Une.

They'd been friends once, and also enemies, which caused him to question whether they'd ever really been friends. Now what were they, passing acquaintances? He hadn't even recognized her when he'd met her face to face. She hadn't recognized him either… or had she?

This is all entirely too neat to be a coincidence, he thought suspiciously. His soldier trained mind was already busy putting facts together and taking them apart, constructing and deconstructing scenarios based on them. Trowa considered a little paranoia to be a healthy survival trait.

 I get injured in the line of work and she rescues me and takes care of me. That bit already doesn't track with normal behavior; everyone knows that a bounty hunter always goes after a kill first no matter who's in the way. What if her decision to take me in and nurse me back to health was a cleverly orchestrated scheme to gain my trust? She could have even been working with Kaneda to set up the scenario; I get poisoned, he gets away, she nurses me back to health and then later he shows up in captivity all neatly tied up supposedly by her partner Shadowblade. Then while I'm questioning him she gets to hear exactly what it is the Preventors want to know about what's going on in the world. She double crosses Kaneda, kills him, gets the bounty for his head plus the cash for all those "fees" of hers; but Kaneda lands a parting shot in before he goes down. She counts on me being the decent type and saving her life thus freeing herself up to take Kaneda's head before she dies of poison. I take her back here while she's weak and defenseless and take care of her out of obligation let my guard down because she looks so harmless. She gets the information out of me and brings it back to….

Well there was a catch. Who would she bring it back to? The Alliance was already long gone and that was who she'd been working for the last time they'd met.

Well, she's a bounty hunter apparently, she could merely sell the information to the highest bidder, he supplied to himself. Right, so she sells the information off and walks away with an even larger sum of money. Talk about playing both sides against the middle. 

The more he thought about it, the angrier it made him.

She probably even tracked me down, knowing just how to act to get me to trust her, he thought broodingly, his frown deepened. That's the real reason why we've met after all of these years. It wasn't by accident, it was by design. That's the only explanation. The coincidence is entirely too great to be coincidence, it had to be deliberate. She probably even planned to string me along just to see how much she could find out. That's how spies work.

 Twice the fool now, he only had himself to blame for trusting such a sweet and innocent looking face. She looked so delicate lying there, like a little angel fallen to earth. No one would ever suspect the deviousness she hid behind that fake purity.

He'd confront her with her wrongdoings and show her that he wasn't so stupid that he couldn't figure things out. His paths of thought had long since jumped the track from cool logic to more basic gut emotions. Part of him was still angry at her, still feeling betrayed by her and was not at all inclined to listen to or believe anything she'd said. 

He shook her roughly to awaken her. Midii stirred a little, mumbled softly in her sleep, and continued dreaming. Trowa frowned in irritation. He wanted to confront her with her crimes and he wanted to do it now… before he could stare at her peaceful face for too long and lose his nerve.

"Wake up," he ordered, shaking her roughly again. Midii blearily opened her eyes to look at him and by reflex pulled to gun out from her pillow and aimed it at him. When she got a second (more wide awake) look at the person who'd jostled her from her dreams she relaxed and put the gun away.

"Oh, it's just you," she said, her voice rough and heavy with sleep. "What are you doing here Mister Barton?"

"Why don't you drop the act and call me by the name you really know me as?" he demanded sharply.

 "What are you on about?" Midii questioned as she looked at him like he done lost his mind. 

"You tell me Midii Une," he said, stressing her name.

"How in the hell did you find out my name?" she demanded, running a quick mental catalogue of the things she had packed among her effects to see if there was anything with her name on it. She couldn't think of a single thing that would leave him with a clue as to her true identity.

"Don't play stupid, I already figured out what you're up to," he snapped in disgust at her duplicity. 

Midii was trying to get her sleep and poison befogged wits to work through what the tall Preventor was saying. Did he mean he knew about her Consortium debt? Or was it that he knew she was really Shadowblade? She was pulling up blanks left and right. What did he mean call him by the name she really knew him as? How had he found out her real name? Midii had made absolutely certain that there was nothing linking the bounty hunter Shadowblade with the girl Midii Une. That could only mean one thing: Trowa Barton was an agent for the Consortium in disguise.

"So you know who I am and what I do… What comes now? Blackmail?" she demanded defensively. "I don't know what the Consortium is up to, but if it concerns me pulling another job for them you can tell them I said to take their offer and shove it 'cause I'm free-lance now. And if you're threatening my family I'll make sure you never see the light of another day. I'll hunt you and any of your associates down to the edge of the galaxy if I have to."

Trowa looked down at her glaring up at him in defiance, her entire body posture bespoke hostile defensiveness. Apparently they had some kind of miscommunication. What was that about the Consortium? How was she involved with those thugs? Something wasn't right here.

"Consortium?" Trowa questioned. "What do you mean by that?"

"I don't answer the questions of street thugs," she said antagonistically. 

"I can't believe I actually almost considered trusting you." Midii grumbled to as she pulled another gun out and trained it on him. "Fortunately for me I don't trust anyone. I guess this means I'll have to kill you now. I can't have anyone walking around knowing who I am, especially Consortium scouts."

"Ah, you think I'm working for the Consorti-"

He was cut off by a gunshot. Faster than thought, he reacted; dropping to the floor, he caught his torso with his hands as his foot shot up to kick the guns she held aside. One of them went clattering to the wall and the other skittered across the floor. Midii tried to move into a fighting stance, but the poison was still heavily laced in her system. The best she managed was a shaky crouch; however she wasn't about to let a thing like near-death stop her from defending herself against this new threat. 

"Come on," she said challengingly, glaring at him. "You guys are tough when it comes to threatening peaceful widower's and their kids… why don't you pick on someone your own size? Like me for example?"

Trowa dodged a knife thrown with deadly accuracy at him. He assessed his opponent; he'd seen her in action a time or two. He was at least a match for her when she was healthy but in her present condition he could take her down without any problems at all. She was shaking with fatigue and so weak from the poison still that the arm she'd raised the throw a knife at him was slowly lowering as the strength to keep it raised drained away from her. She was still scowling at him defiantly, daring him to come at her. There was something…

Her eyes, he said, struck with realization. Her eyes aren't hiding anything. They can't; she's too exhausted to even see straight and the poison lacing her system has knocked all of her guards completely down. The only way she could lie to me in her present unthinking condition is to say nothing. Midii's eyes were burning with an intense protective anger, the anger of a mother hawk defending her nest of younglings. She knew that there was no way she'd be able to beat him in her current condition but she was going to stand and fight a losing battle against him, she was backed into a corner and defiant mainly out of desperation.

Trowa felt torn. Part of him was telling him that trusting her, Midii Une, a known spy and someone who'd betrayed him in the past was the very last thing he should do. Once a traitor always a traitor right? The other part was telling him that he didn't even have all of the facts, and he should reserve judgment in the absence of information. There was something else going on, how was she connected with the Consortium? 

He made a decision. Trowa raised both his hands in surrender, unholstered his gun and set it on the ground before him. Midii, still trembling with fatigue and illness from the poison didn't move an inch and kept a third gun trained on him. Silence reighned in the tiny room for a minute as the two stood frozen in tableu, neither trusting the other. Surprisingly, it was Trowa who spoke first.

"Truce," he said. "Midii, you're supposed to put your guns down."

"No thank-you mister Barton, if that's even your name," she said suspiciously. "And how did you find out my name?"

She faltered, her gun-arm dropping in exhaustion as she almost tumbled to the floor, still she would not take her eyes or her gun off him for a second. Apparently paranoia and suspicion were deeply ingrained in her. 

"Sit down before you fall over," he suggested. "I'm already unarmed, and I'm not going to hurt you."

"Right," she said warily. "So what does the Consortium want with me this time? And why did it go to all the trouble of making someone look like a Preventor just to get a look at one bounty hunter's modus operendi?"

"I'm not with the Consortium Midii," he said seriously.

"Sure you're not, and I'm an innocent school-girl," she snorted cynically. "If you're not with the Consortium, then how do you know my name?"

"You really don't know who I am, do you?" he murmured rhetorically. Inside his head he was already revising the scenario he'd constructed based on the new information gathered. 

She thought he was an agent from the Consortium, which she'd obviously had dealings with in the past and from the sound of it, they hadn't been very pleasant. She didn't know who he was which meant that she couldn't have sought him out deliberately. He pulled out the important details from their previous conversation… "Pulling another job for them… free-lance… bounty hunter." Trowa would be willing to bet his favorite clown pants that she wouldn't hve let that much slip if it hadn't been for the poison still running through her body.

"Look at me Midii," he said commandingly. "Don't you recognize me?"

After a moment of study she said

"You do seem familiar," Midii admitted grudgingly. "It's probably the poison."

Trowa watched her shiver in a crouch with her weapon pointed unerringly on him. Her arm was wavering a little but she was stubborn and not about to give up her one advantage. He smiled and made a noise deep in his throat that might have been a small laugh.

"Are you going to shoot me?" he said looking amused at her perversity.

"Maybe," she replied steadily. "It depends on whether you answer my questions or not Mister Barton. Now, if you're not with the Consortium, then how do you know my name?"

Trowa decided to give her this one, if only for the shock value.

"You didn't always call me Mister Barton," he said plainly. "You used to call me Nanashi."

There was a long pregnant pause in which Midii stared at him with and completely dumbstruck expression on her face. Finally she nodded to herself and said

"It's the poison. I'm hallucinating."

"You're not hallucinating," he said, a little put out that she dismissed it so easily. Yes it was a little in the incredible side but surely she must have noticed a resemblance by now.

"Uh-huh, yeah," She said, regarding him with a cynical look on her face. Apparently Midii Une was not someone who took anything at face value. "It's too great a coincidence that one of the maybe three people who actually know that Midii Une is not in fact a harmless village girl would just show up one day when I'm just about to-…" She paused. "Who do really work for Trowa Barton? Are you trying to resurrect the Barton Army? Is that why you wanted Kaneda?"

"What about you?" he countered swiftly. "You're a spy, how do I know that you're not just trying to get information about the Preventors from me."

Midii shot him a scornful look. 

"I _was_ a spy. And if you know that then you _must_ be a Consortium agent because the event of you being who you've just claimed to be ranks right up there with the sun rising in the west. Not bloody well likely," she said scathingly. "And furthermore, what you've just said already doesn't track."

"How so?" he inquired. He distrusted the way he'd felt a surge of hope well up in his chest when she'd said those words. He'd never quite been certain if he saw things clearly where she was concerned. He didn't know which he trusted less in this situation; Midii Une or himself.

"If I wanted to get information from you, I would simply have injected you with truth serum as I did Kaneda while you were already poisoned in that alley where we first ran into each other. Once I had gotten what I wanted I would have just killed you and left you there for dead. Kaneda would have taken the heat for it."

Trowa was brought up short by this. What she said made perfect sense if one put aside the creepy fact that she'd just told him she would have killed him and left him for dead if it suited her purposes. 

"So then why did you save me?"

"Good business," she said succinctly. "I had nothing to lose really, and a couple hundred credits to gain. I already had a tag on Kaneda and the other bounty hunters would be looking in the wrong town so I decided that I'd make some extra money off you by selling you back to that Une woman you work for." 

Midii certainly looked hardcore and uncaring, but then her expression softened just a little as she said

"But… it was nice… not being alone anymore for a while."

It was at precisely that moment that her body gave out and said it couldn't take anymore. Apparently she'd already taxed it to its limits previously and trying to push it while it was trying to wage a war against the deadly menace of poison within itself, even with the help of some anti-venom, was asking too much of it. Midii pitched forward, trying to catch herself before she hit the floor. Instead, Trowa caught her before her frail body could slam into the wood flooring. One arm cradled her head while the other supported her by the waist.

"I'm not going to thank you," she whispered, on the verge of losing consciousness.

"Wasn't expecting it," he replied. 

Before tucking her back in he checked her bedroll for extra weapons.

She really doesn't trust anyone, he noted once his inventory was through. In her bedroll and pillow alone she'd stashed various concealable weapons, mostly small handheld guns or little throwing knives, she had one or two smallbombs to provide a distraction, several exploding smoke capsules to provide cover. She wasn't trusting in luck where good preparation and automatic fighters instincts would work better. He didn't even want to think about what kinds of weapons she might be concealing on her person when she went out as Shadowblade. 

He sat back on the floor next to bedroll where she slept in exhaustion. The worst of the poison was probably mostly gone from her system but their little tete a tete had seemed to drain her of a lot of her strength. He sat back to consider the new information he had gleaned from their conversation. First he wanted to concentrate on what she'd said of the Consortium, the Preventors had been trying to track the Consortiums activities for some time but solid information had been hard to get. What they had was pretty vague.

Consortium: an organized crime ring in sector 5 by 76 by 12 with its main base rumored to be in Malipais. Holds some small connections to the former Alliance and managed to escape the purging done by both OZ and later by the Preventors. The kingpin is unknown. The Consortium is said to have been behind the recent assassinations of several key government officials in the new Unified Nation but such rumors have as yet been unconfirmed. Also said to have connections with the space Pirates that run raids along the trade routes, again such reports have been unconfirmed. Attempts by the Preventors to get an informant into the works of the Consortium have been unsuccessful.

She's had dealings with the Consortium in the past. Her words "pull another job for them. What does the Consortium want with me this time?" What kind of work did she do I wonder. She mistook me for a Consortium Agent; that must mean they have a continuing interest in her. If they know she's the bounty hunter Shadowblade that would make sense; but she told me she worked freelance when she thought I was a Consortium agent with a job offer for her. He snorted, she could have merely been trying to get a higher price out of me then.

He shook his head to clear it and started over. His thoughts were beginning to tangle on themselves, best to start with what he knew and go from there.

She's still very ill and I approached her in a hostile manner, Trowa felt a small pang for that one but ignored it in favor of continuing his chain of thought. The poison still might be affecting her judgment, whatever, but she reacted defensively. Hmmm…. No, at first she appeared mainly confused. If her confusion was genuine then she really doesn't know who I am. It was only after I mentioned her name that she got defensive. The Consortium knows Midii Une then…. But not Shadowblade?

That was an interesting conjecture. If she treated Shadowblade and Midii as two different people, then they might not actually make the connection. By all appearances she worked alone. Or… she might be an agent for the consortium. Trowa dismissed that one immediately however, everything in their brief conversation pointed to Midii having a strong dislike for the Consortium. She was connected to them somehow however.

Hn. She probably merely hired out her skills as a bounty hunter to the Consortium a time or two, he figured. But that doesn't quite match up with what she said… what was it? If you're not with the Consortium then how do you know my name? That suggests that the Consortium knows her as Midii Une, not Shadowblade.

He sighed. This was getting complicated. 

She'd helped him out of interest for the money she could make from his organization but e knew it would have been far more expedient to merely leave him there to die and go after the large sum of money offered by the bounty. Instead of chasing down Kaneda, she'd dragged him to an apartment, tended to him, then after she'd gotten his word that he would stay put she did a further service by tracking down and capturing Kaneda so that Trowa could get the information that only he knew. But at the same time she was Midii Une, with unknown associations with an unscrupulous crime ring and unknown motives. She'd already betrayed him once and there was nothing preventing her from doing so again. 

But she looked so vulnerable….

Either way, he decided firmly. She's not to be trusted. She has her own motives and I don't know what they are. She has connections to a dangerous crime ring and I don't know what they are. There is still the possibility that she is a spy no matter what her reputation as a bounty hunter is. And then there's the final fact that she admitted herself that if she'd wanted information out of me she'd have drugged me and then left me for dead.

The last one, if a bit unnerving, was only to be expected. Bounty hunters, spies and the like worked on expediency, not morals. They tended not to sweat the details, or hell, the ethics of anything until their primary objective had been accomplished. Their modus operendi was "by any means necessary." Trowa fixed those thought firmly in his mind as a reminder of why he should not get any more involved with Midii Une than he already had. The requested payment in full was already in the bank account she'd given him, once she was recovered he'd leave and they never see one another again. He could simply ignore the peculiar knot of tangled thoughts and emotions she conjured up from some unknown recess inside of him and go on with his life.

His eyes, of their own volition, crept over to her face. She looked so sweet when she was sleeping… almost nothing like when she'd been awake, pointing her guns at him and glaring in defiance. Right now she made him want to protect her, despite that fact he could not trust her she still inspired a crazy, contradictory knot of emotions in him. The ingrained imperative to protect warred with suspicion over just what she was after and why she'd helped him. He wanted to trust her but he knew he couldn't afford to; he trusted even less the strange desire he felt to want to trust her. It was insane… by his standards, she was the enemy. You didn't trust the enemy, you watched them carefully or you killed them before they could kill you. Midii was dangerous. Keeping her around was like playing with fire, he didn't know enough about the person she was and his own instincts in her case could never be trusted. She was too beautiful for his own good, and too damned intelligent too. A stupid person would never have made it as far as she had. 

Trowa looked again at the photograph of the young Midii Une and her family. 

Maybe I know her motives after all, he thought consideringly. She said a long time ago that she took the job as a spy in order to take care of her family…

This was all giving him a headache. Midii Une wasn't any of his concern. He had nothing to do with her or any of her choices now, and once he was through nursing her back to health he wouldn't have anything more to do with her.

* * *


	9. Choices and Responsibility

In his treatment of the older Midii Une of the course of three days Trowa felt himself softening toward her a little, even admiring her. She acted tough and uncaring but that was all nothing but surface bluster; she could be really sweet and very caring; she could also be stubborn, proud, and vibrant. That she loved her family was without question; Trowa could see that she walk through fire and face hell itself to protect them. She was very conscious of her responsibilities towards them, to provide for them, to guard them from harm. Fiercely proud and fiercely independent; Midii was not a woman who lived life by halves. She'd never settle for emptying herself out as he had; if there was an emotion she felt she felt it completely. Her loyalty to her family was utter and complete; her unswerving devotion to duty and her willingness to sacrifice everything, even her own heart and happiness, to the ones she cared about made her the soul of honor. It seemed odd to think of a spy as having a set of principles; but Trowa could not deny, after having gotten to know her a little better, that Midii Une had definite (though unusual) code of honor that she strictly adhered to. If it cost her her life, she'd protect her loved ones. As the eldest, it was clearly her responsibility to provide for her family and no cost she could pay personally would be too great to see it done. Moral right and wrong could take second place to survival; if the occasion arose to choose between doing what was right and honoring her duty to her family, there was no question as to what her choice would be. 

She's like a lioness, he thought as he tried to feed her from a bowl of soup and she glared at him and tried to do it herself. Yes, _exactly_ like a lioness. Out of all the big cats, the lioness is the only one who goes out to hunt and provide for the pride while the male stays at home to guard the cubs. There's not a single doubt in my mind that if and when her family is threatened she can be fully as fierce as a mother lioness protecting her cubs and every bit as deadly. She even had the same hair color. 

She lived life with drive and ferocity, she lived on hope and she lived with a deep intensity of emotion that Trowa could only see and envy a little. He had slowly destroyed his heart little by little; he had gained some of it back but that wasn't nearly anything like how Midii lived. She wasn't a candle, but a bonfire; giving of heat and light for her family to play and dance around. He felt drawn to her with the gravitation of emptiness to fullness, it was said that nature abhorred a vacuum; Midii burst with inner fire and strength and he wanted to know that, part of him wanted what she had, had always wanted it. 

A lioness, my lioness.

* * *

Midii woke in the dark to the very soft sound of beeping. It was her mobile communicator! Only one person had the number that would establish an open communication link with her out in the field and it was only to be used in dire circumstances. She froze; had something happened at home? Midii listened to for a moment, to ensure that her keeper over in the next room continued to sleep. She would have to keep this quiet.

She slid out of the sleeping roll and crawled to her carisak. Removing her small palmtop she set it up on the low table and sat in front of it.

Her youngest brothers' face popped up on the screen.

"Hey Sis," he said. Midii couldn't see into the background and there was something she didn't trust.

"Michael, I thought I told you that this number was for emergency use only," she hissed. "Why are you calling me here?"

 "I know, but the men told us to call you and said that if we didn't they'd hurt father," Michael said plaintively, his young face skewed into and expression bordering on tears. "I'm scared sister."

"Men?" she questioned quietly, hackles rising in alarm. "What men Michael?"

Just then, the worried and fear filled face of her youngest brother was replaced by the urbane, business suit clad visage of a man known only as "Mr. Smith" one of the top ringleaders of the Consortium and someone who had taken a very personal interest in Midii Une from the very beginning. 

"Ah, Midii my pet, there you are," he said genially. 

"I'm no-one's pet and certainly not yours," she growled in hostile reply. "What do you want with me?"

"Is that any way to greet an old and trusted associate?" he asked lightly, lighting a cigarette and drawing a puff. 

"Old, yes; trusted? Not on my life," she replied, scowling for all she was worth at him. Oh he was an old associate alright, in fact, he'd been there from the very beginning.

"How is my favorite pet spy these days? You've certainly been providing well for your family Miss Une. And I must say, I'm quite impressed; I never thought that even you would manage to make enough money to pay off all the accrued interest. Five million credits is quite a tidy sum and you've managed to make all that plus keep your family fed and clothed and housed… quite impressive. But I would expect nothing less from our little Midii."

Midii gritted her teeth at the smug and fatuous condescension in his tone.

"I told you before; I'm nothing of yours. I have the final payment. Give me an account number and I'll have it transferred; then, you and your associates can take your money, your debt accounts, and your fine Cuban cigars, and shove it."

Midii couldn't help but inject a note of triumph (note? Her voice was saturated with it) in her tone as she told Mr. Smith the words she'd been wanting to say since she'd been a very young girl. To be completely honest, she'd wanted to say a whole lot more than that but even now she did not wish to risk angering the powerful thug.

"Now, now Miss Une, that's no way to talk to an old friend of the family," he said urbanely. 

She almost said "with friends like you who needs enemies?" but curbed her tongue. She was within moments of finally gaining her cherished freedom and she didn't want to do or say anything to jeopardize that.

"The account number?" she pressed. She just wanted to get it all over with. She wanted her freedom.

"My dear precious little Midii… It seems like only yesterday you were just a sweet-faced little cherub, going out on her first mission. You used to be the best spy we ever had. Even at a young age you had that touch. Once we'd trained that odd, nasty little habit you had of feeling guilty all the time out of you, well; there was just no stopping you." He smiled that smile of his that was the most creepy-looking hybrid of proud father and shark-like predator that Midii had ever seen. She felt a small shudder threaten at the base of her spine but controlled it.

"I have no interest in a trip down memory lane, Smith. Are you going to take my last payment and leave me and my family in peace or must I deliver it personally?" she demanded.

"Why Miss Une, I'm hurt," he said affecting a wounded demeanor that was every bit as fake as the rose in his lapel. "First you don't want to play with us anymore and now you want to get rid of us for good. It's not nice to abandon your friends like that."

"You're not my friends, you tricked my father into debt to you, then later you tricked me into making it bigger. We are, at the very best, business associates but I would prefer the more accurate term of master and indentured servant. Besides, spies don't have friends."

"I made you," he reminded her. 

"Yes, you did," she spat. 

"If I wanted I could have you killed without even having to raise a finger."

"I'm not worth anything alive. You yourself taught me that."

"Hmmm, perhaps not," he said idly in a bored tone. Midii was immediately taut as a harpstring with alarm. "But surely you wouldn't begrudge one tiny little favor before parting ways forever from your old and dear friends. It's nothing really to a woman of your skills and caliber, you could probably take care of it on your way back home Miss Une."

Midii silently searched his face with suspicion. He was up to something, and she wasn't going to like it. He took her silence as a signal to continue.

"One last little spy job, for old times sake."

"No," she answered bluntly.

"You haven't even heard what it was," he protested.

"It doesn't matter. I already know I'm not going to like it."

"Come now little Midii, little pet. Be a good girl."

"When did you ever get the impression that I'm a good girl?"

Here Mr. Smith took another long drag on his fine cigar and leaned back away from the screen, his posture and body language the kind of sanguine that only comes from having all the cards. He smiled again as he said

"Ah, my dear little Midii; so sweet, so obedient… so loving and protective of her dear, helpless, defenseless, family."

"You leave them out of this," she snarled softly in the dark.

"Then I'm about to make you an offer you can't refuse," he chuckled, leaning forward on his hands. "Infiltrate Preventors and get us the information on their movements. They've been causing a terrible amount of trouble for us and our allies out in space lately and I'm afraid I've had to set my timetable back. Our attempts to get our informants into the upper echelons of Preventors have been unsuccessful. If I knew their next move and where they're sending their agents I could work around them."

Midii sat there trembling with suppressed rage, her hands clenched so tightly at both sides of her body that her nails bit painfully into her palms. She wanted to reach inside the screen and rip the man's head off with her bare hands. She wanted kill him, slash him apart limb by limb with her kodachi. How dare he? For many years, since Une had begun working for them there had been a silent unspoken agreement between them that as long as they continued to get their payments they would never go near her family. Now, that pact was broken. Threatening her family, her last safe haven had been invaded by her enemies. She couldn't forgive this! 

 "Pull a job for you?" she said affecting a mockingly wide-eyed gaze. "Me? I gave that up a long time ago, Smith. I haven't done spy work in so long I don't even remember how to do it. I may just end up in the hands of the enemy you know… I hear those Preventors have ways of making people talk."

"Silence was always your forte Miss Une."

"What if I were to refuse?" she demanded a trifle defiantly.

Smith smiled coldly and said

"This is a lovely little family you have here Miss Une… It would be a shame if anything were to happen to it."

"You bastard," she whispered glaring at him with hatred even as her eyes brimmed with helpless tears.  

I'll make him pay, she swore. I will burn his world to its very foundations. I'll destroy everything he holds dear.

"Midii… Midii Midii, my cute little Midii," he said over the rushing in her ears. "You wouldn't possibly be contemplating harming your dear old uncle Smith would you?"

"…" She glared at him.

"My precious jewel of espionage, my flower of betrayers; harming me is the last thing you want to do. For a sure as you do, your dear family will suffer for it. Now do we have a deal?"

Midii glared at him, frozen with indecision. If the man Trowa Barton actually was who he said he was, she'd be repeating their tragic history of betrayal. How could she even think of hurting her Nanashi again? She'd always sworn if she'd had another chance, a way to do it all over again she'd do it differently; figure out a way to stay by his side. But her family…

"I think you need a little coaxing," said Smith turning to one side. "Oh Darkness? Bring me the boy, the youngest one will do."

Michael! Midii gasped as her world froze. Her cherubic younger brother with his feathery blonde hair and wide blue eyes, who liked to paint the world with beautiful colors and brought her pretty flowers whenever she was home; he was hustled on screen by a muscular man in a body builder shirt. His eyes were wide with fear and he looked pleadingly at Midii on the screen, silently begging "please do something, help me…" There was a click as Darkness flipped opened a long wicked looking knife.

"Such a pretty face," said Smith. The knife neared her younger brother with slow deliberation.

"Sister… Midii I'm scared! Help me Midii!" Micheal begged desperately as the knife got even closer.

"It's alright Micheal," she said decisively. "Call off your man Smith; I'll do as you ask."

"Excellent," he said cheerfully. "I knew you'd be reasonable about this my pet. I look forward to a job well done."

"Leave everything to me."

* * *

Midii switched off the communicator and slumped there, tears coursing down her cheeks.

"Dammit," she whispered hoarsely. "Dammit! I was so close to getting my freedom, so close to leading a normal life and now… Now I'll never be free. There will always be another job, another favor. I belong to them as surely as if I'd sold them my soul."

She choked on a sob, trying hard not to cry at the visions of job after job lining up danced before her eyes. Crying was for weak women she had other things to be doing right now. 

"Focus," she ordered herself. Her feelings of helplessness as she realized she'd never be free were burned away by anger. She agreed to take the job but by God she didn't have to like it. He might be threatening her family, but Midii had more than a few ways to get around the strictures he'd placed on her.

She sat back to plan. If Mr. Smith had seen the look of intense focused anger on Midii's face right then he would certainly have reconsidered the wisdom of reinstating his ex spy Midii Une to active service.

She couldn't afford to defy him openly of course, but there were ways and ways she could work around that. First of all, she'd have to get rid of any watchers that were most likely already in place. Smith had said that he hadn't gotten anyone into the upper circle but that didn't mean that he hadn't gotten anyone in at all, merely that they were consigned to menial work. They'd be watching Midii now and reporting back her movements to Mr. Smith, if she did anything suspicious he'd know and likewise harm her family. 

I haven't even begun to consider how I'm going to make my way into the Preventors in the first place, she thought. Midii had taken it for granted that she'd be accepted immediately as one of the Elites; but things were not quite so simple.

The easiest way in would be to use Trowa Barton. He could vouch for my character and for my skills… Midii shied away from using that approach. If Trowa really was her Nanashi, she wanted to keep him out of this. She didn't want to hurt him again. Flower of Betrayers, that was her alright; a rose with deadly thorns. If at all possible she wanted to spare him her bad karma. She'd just get it done and over with quickly, he'd never even know she was there. And after she'd finished with the Preventors she'd go after Mr. Smith…

"He deserves everything I'm going to do to him."

* * *  

Trowa Barton slid quietly away from the cracked sliding door and back over to his bed. He'd seen everything. He'd awoken at the sound of her communicator going off, thinking that it had been his own, but the stirrings in the next room quickly told him that it was not. He'd been about to intrude and ask if everything was alright when he'd been surprised to hear the voice of a young boy confirming her name was Midii Une. It was one of her younger brothers. Not bothering to feel guilty for eavesdropping, Trowa had frozen there, staring through a crack in the door at her back and the screen of her palmtop. 

He'd heard everything. They'd threatened her family, she'd taken the job. Midii Une was his enemy once again. But she'd been forced into it, so perhaps she wasn't truly his enemy.

He felt torn, he'd heard how she'd been forced, how reluctant she'd been. He should be on her side. But his soldier self had identified her as the enemy and insisted on treating her as such. She was the enemy and yet not the enemy.

I sometimes long for the simplicity of the battlefield, he thought. There things had seemed so much easier; there were your enemies whom you killed in order to keep on surviving and there was your weapon. A soldier needed nothing else. But a man? A man was different. He understood what it was to be human, he had a place to go home to and people he protected. Trowa the man was warring with Trowa the soldier; arguing that Midii was a victim and as such deserved his protection. Trowa the soldier knew that a spy was the single most dangerous threat to any mission; a spy could mean the difference between success and failure… or life and death. Trowa the soldier felt that Midii Une should be dealt with immediately and decisively, before she could become a problem.

He was still a soldier inside, he was still that nameless boy who had been on the battlefield for as long as he could remember. Battle habits died hardest, and Nanashi had always dealt with all threats in the most expedient manner.

All threats… save one.

Even as he glanced at his gun in its shoulder holster hanging within reach of where he slept, he already knew what his decision was going to be. He couldn't do it. In the very short time he'd spent with her she'd already become important to him once again. Every soldier instinct within him screamed that he should get rid of her before she brought him, his friends, and the entire Preventors Agency down but he already knew he wouldn't do it; and he wouldn't allow anyone else to harm her anymore either. That meant that if he wasn't going to stop her outright, he'd have to work around her.

Her situation was precarious; there were civilian hostages involved, as well as a major crime ring, not to mention a very clever spy whom he was far from objective about. It was crazy and went against every ingrained instinct for survival… but he was going to do it anyway.

Oh how the mighty have fallen, he thought with a little wry amusement. He'd gone from perfect soldier to lovestruck fool in the span of a few days. Pathetic.

The easiest way to keep one step ahead of her would be to work closely with her and thus monitor her activities, he thought as he stretched back out onto his pallet. Hn, I haven't ever bothered to take a partner before, perhaps it's time I changed that. Once I have Midii under my wing I'll be able to keep a close eye on her. I suppose the easiest way to do that would be to bring her along with me. Her credentials as Shadowblade would be impressive enough to the Preventors to ensure her a position as a field agent. If I put a bug in her personal computer I'd be able to keep track of just what information she gets a hold of and how much she sends to this Mr. Smith, then I'd be able to work around that without raising suspicion. If I play this right, Midii might even work as an unwitting double agent; providing information about the enemy and their movements by the information she accesses. I will have to be careful however, if the Committee gets suspicious of her they'll harm the civilian hostages. With time and assistance I may be able to neutralize even that threat, but it's going to take more careful planning and maneuvering than I have time for right now.

It was set then. First objective, get her in. Second objective, have her assigned as his partner. He'd work on keeping ahead of her from there. And as soon as he had a spare moment when she wasn't here he'd set up the monitoring equipment on her private console and such.

* * * 

Midii looked at the ceiling of her flat with water stains running along the length of one of the cracks, a million different possibilities circled around in her head. If she wasn't going to use Trowa, how was she going to get in as well as ensure herself a place in the upper circle of field agents? The best way to ensure he automatic position would be to pull off something really impressive and use it as an introduction. Midii did like to make a big entrance.

Go with what you know best, she decided. This time she wouldn't be killing them, but the basic work was to be the same; she'd still be tracking them down but now she'd just be drugging them and depositing them on the Preventors front doorstep. She knew of three tough little buggers that the agency had had an interest in for quite some time now and they were all centrally located here in Hanjok for her convenience. One was a small-time thug who had big-time ambitions, normally it wasn't the kind of thing she or the Preventors would get involved in, but this one was said to have more than average information about certain activities on the Black Market and the raids along the Spacer Trade Routes. Target's name: Spencer Drift. Alias: Drifter. The second potential mark was a bit of a mad scientist. He was supposedly creating biological weapons for the Barton Army in the year 195; it was well known that the Barton Family was a lot less scrupulous than Treize Kushrenada had been. Target's name: Doctor Doyle Weston. Third candidate was a slippery little smuggler who had escaped every single attempt by the Preventors to pin him down with evidence. It might take a few days Midii was sure that she was more than up to the task. 

Too bad I'm going to miss out on their bounties, she thought with a little regret. Sure, the likely Preventors salary she was going to get for it was going to make up for the loss but Midii just hated being coerced! Nothing she could do about it now; the guards that were already in place would be expecting an attack and would be watching out very carefully. She'd have to go along with the Consortium for now, at least until she could figure out a way to rescue her family.

* * *

"I guess this is where we part ways Trowa Barton," Midii said, standing outside the train station in Hanjok. 

"Guess so," he replied. In the additional day he'd spent with her she'd made a full recovery. Apparently the poison was slow to relinquish its grip, but once it was beaten it faded out quickly. 

"Safe journey then," she said a little awkwardly. "Thanks for all of your help."

"Anytime," he replied. After a small pause he said "Would you like to come work with me?"

Midii looked up at him and blinked in surprise. She looked sorely tempted for a moment, but then shook her head.

"Nah, not just yet," she said. "But I'll probably show up in a little while, so I guess I'll be seeing you." 

"I'll keep an eye out for you then," Trowa murmured, a little mystified as well as privately delighted. Something inside of him was very pleased that she wasn't going to use him as an easy way in. While this might make things a little more difficult he was glad she hadn't gone that route. He was almost half tempted to bend down and kiss her cheek in goodbye, but she was already turning to walk away. Likewise Trowa turned, slung his single carisak over his shoulder, and headed over to his terminal to catch a train back to headquarters.


	10. Partners and Alibi's

* * *

One week later Trowa was still at Preventors Headquarters. Ostensibly he was there to lend auxiliary assistance to his comrades, but things had been quiet that week, or at least as quiet as it ever got in the Preventors which wasn't very. He was actually waiting around for Midii to show up, and he knew she would. Just in case she decided to sneak in and steal the information instead of infiltrate Preventors as she'd been instructed, Trowa had double-checked the security system. 

"Tisk tisk, are you still here?" Duo called from one of the tables in the mess hall as Trowa slid in and sat down across from him for lunch. 

"Usually you head right back home," Sally remarked from where she sat beside him. Wufei and Trowa exchanged brief nods in greeting, both preferring to eat silently.

"Oh, I get it," said Duo. "You're here to admire the new secretary."

"There's a new secretary?" Trowa questioned. He had a vested interest in keeping tabs on anyone new who would have easy access to potentially sensitive information. It would be only too easy for Midii to infiltrate and get the information she wanted disguised as a harmless secretary after all.

"Yep. Tall, brunette, a little on the plumpish side but she has the height to wear it well," Duo said judiciously. 

"About how tall?" Trowa inquired. That was one of the hardest features to fake without the use of heels, and even if she did use heels he'd be able to look at her and tell by her measurements what height she would be flatfooted. 

"She's only a little shorter than you I think," said Sally. "Why? Are you interested?"

"No," said Trowa dismissing her. It couldn't be Midii, she was quite a bit smaller than him and looked it. 

Duo shrugged and changed the subject.

"Hey guys, it just so happens I have the latest installment in the ongoing Heero and Relena saga," he told the group. Wufei looked painfully annoyed, Sally amused and interested, and a couple people from behind him leaned over to hear a little better.

"Has she at least given him the time of day yet?" Sally inquired, in part to encourage Duo to hurry up and spill the goods and in part to provoke a disgusted grumble from her cranky partner.

"As of right now, our boy Heero… is being spectacularly blown off. Only Relena could manage to make a frank and absolute dismissal sound like a highly concerned compliment."

"She is a politician Duo," said an easy-going feminine voice from behind him. His partner walked over with her tray and Duo moved over to make room beside him for her. 

"What else would you expect but that she'd be good with words," she continued, inserting her straw into her juice container. "And I have even more interesting news than that."

"Oh really?" said Sally. "What's that?"

"We've got a new field agent just signed on this morning."

"Fresh meat," Duo chuckled, rubbing his hands together. One of the first things new recruits were warned about was that Preventer's sophomoric sense of humor.

"You should have seen how she made her entrance though," Hilde continued with a glare at her partner for interrupting her gossip string. "She showed up on the front steps, after having snuck past the front gate unnoticed somehow but that's not all… Not only did she manage to sneak in, but she brought a little present along with her. She had three guys trussed up like turkeys for market lined up at her feet. You won't believe it, but one of them was that doctor guy who was supposed to be making bioweapons for the Barton foundation, another was that elusive smuggler who gave Duo and I a run for our money before he just up and disappeared. I don't know who the third one was, but still… That's pretty impressive. The new girl looked up at Lady Une casually as you please and said that she was interested in a job working there and did Une think she had room for her?"

"That must be my new partner then," Trowa said quietly. They all turned to look at him in surprise, nay, shock. Trowa, in all of the time that he had been working on and off for the Preventors, had never bothered to acquire a partner. He always worked alone, on occasion he _might_ work in conjunction with Heero but they rarely worked as a team (more like two allies who were working separately in tandem). 

"I put in to train a new recruit and Une said she'd give me the next field agent she brought on to work with me," he explained. It had been a bit of a gamble for him, Trowa had known that there was a possibility that there would be another field agent hired before Midii was but he'd felt that the opportunity was worth the risk. Oh, he'd still act surprised to see her and he imagined that she'd be very very cautious in her work when she was starting out, but she wouldn't know that he already knew what she was up to and that gave him a distinct advantage. She most likely thought he'd be suspicious of her, she might even think he would have told his commanding officer of their past history together and that they'd be watching her carefully.

I probably should have told Une but I am concerned that if Une rids the Preventors of Midii the Consortium will not hesitate to destroy the civilian hostages because Midii failed in her assignment. Also, it is better to have a known element that can be watched as opposed to an unknown element who's orders and motives are undefined. If she thinks that her every movement is being watched this will make her cautious which in turn make my task more difficult, but I think I may be able to keep ahead of her. I figured her out once before after all.

Still, the voice of cation whispered to him, that was when they had both been young and he had been the more experienced of the two. Now Midii had had an entire lifetime to hone her skills to the razor edge… for all he knew she was more than a match for him now and it wouldn't do to be overconfidant.

He cocked his head to one side to listen o the pager system ask for Trowa Barton to report to Une's office and pulled away from the table. With a nod to his friends he said

"I should go meet my new partner now. Good day."

* * * 

Midii looked across the oak desk at the brunette woman in the Preventors jacket. She too wore the last name Une, but on closer inspection, Midii really didn't think they were related. Her facial features, height and eyes were definitely not of any resemblance to her father at all. 

"That's quite an impressive entrance you made Miss Une," Lady Une stated looking her squarely in the face. "It says here that you've done some freelance work for us before, is that what made you want to join us now?"

"Actually, I joined because I needed to provide for my family," Midii hedged. She really hated this part; a spy always had to remember their alibi and Midii didn't really care for lying in the first part. There was only so long a person could play the game before they actually became the lie. 

"I see. Children?"

"No, younger siblings," Midii clarified.

There came a knock at the door, soft and precise.

"That should be your assigned partner right now," said Lady Une. "You're in luck Miss Une, you got one of our best and most qualified agents to show you the ropes around here."

Midii turned in her seat and nearly gasped in surprise when she saw who walked through the door. Only years and years of controlling her facial expressions and movements kept her from giving herself away.

Damn it! she thought frustratedly. Of all the rotten luck. Murphey's Law must really have it out for me. At every turn I keep running in to him! It's bad enough that he knows I'm Shadowblade, and that he might or might not be Nanashi , but does he now have to be my partner as well? The universe hates me.

"Good morning Midii," Trowa said blandly. Midii for her part looked for any clue, any silent communication between the young Preventor and his superior that they might be onto her and setting her up for a trap. Spies always suspected everything to be a trap, that was how they survived.

"Good morning Mister Barton," she said a trifle formally.

"I didn't realize the two of you knew each other," Lady Une remarked. "What a strange coincidence."

"We go back a ways," said Trowa mildly. 

"Good, then I trust you two will be able to get along. Your first mission together is to track down information on that Smuggler Miss Une here caught. Right now, the evidence we're holding him on is pretty tenuous. We need something more solid."

"We could start by tracking Down Cap'n Jax's ship logs, at least the official one, and tallying up his official stops with amount of fuel usage to see if he's made any other unofficial stops. If we get someone who's good enough with computers we may be able to retrieve some of the erased logs… just as a start," Midii said.

"It looks like things will work out just fine here. Get to it; I'd like a report on my desk in two weeks. Oh, and don't forget to pick up your uniform before you go out into the field Miss Une."

"Aye ma'am," Midii said and followed Trowa out.

Well this is a hell of a complication, she thought as she followed her new partner down the maze of bustling hallways to wherever it was they were going. The one person who just might know my identity and the real reason I'm here ends up working with me. He'll probably be suspicious of me, and watch me closely. That'll make things harder. Mister Smith never seems to understand that infiltration takes time, even with a seasoned professional such as myself. He always wants immediate results. He's gonna be waiting a while with this one, Trowa is no easy man to fool. I sometimes get the feeling he saw right through my Shadowblade disguise from the very beginning. I'll have to be very very careful. And it's not exactly like I can say 'Gee Trowa, do you actually know I'm a spy sent to infiltrate here or are you just going along with all of this to trap me later.' Yeah, if that's not a giveaway. Why do I always get the weird complications? Stuff like this never happened to me when I was a bounty hunter.

"Here we are," Trowa said quietly. 

'Here' was a small military issue clothing boutique. Midii eyed the apparel with distaste. Didn't they have anything a little more… sleek? Midii, even at her poorest, was never anything less than well dressed. She generally tailored her own clothes to fit her, or even made adjustments to suit her style and those uniforms… were not her style. She supposed that the coloring wasn't too bad… sort of; in a very olive green looking kind of way. And the jackets were very… functional. Didn't they have anything a little less oversized bomber jacket?

Oh well, I guess there's no hope for it, she thought resignedly. She'd have to wear that awful tie too she supposed. 


	11. Missions and Coffee

The mission had gone smoothly, without a single hitch. They found the evidence they were looking for in record time. Midii had gotten them off to a strong start by quickly narrowing down the possibilities of where their captured smuggler (Tangio) had hidden his beloved ship to two and as luck would have it, they'd hit gold on the first spot.

The ship had been located stowed away among the junk on a large floating trash barge currently running the L2 Cluster to L4 Cluster route. A clever hiding place as the ship itself looked like a cobbled together collection of bits of technology welded together around a central engine… essentially it looked like part of the junkpile itself. The interior of the ship did little to improve ones impression based on the exterior. It was crowded (crammed would be a better word) there were places where the paneling had never been replaced and the wiring was apparent, the cargo holds however, were huge. The cockpit was about the only area he'd noticed on his cursory tour of the vessel that was neat and orderly. He settled himself in front of one of the display screens and accessed the fuel logs and itinerary, intent on beginning his work right away.

Trowa had checked the ships logs and tallied up the fuel usage versus the average amount used for trips of that speed and duration and came up with a completely different set of numbers. By calculating out the fuel usage for acceleration and deceleration (as with docking) plus the amount of extra fuel required for a side trip he had been able to narrow the possibility of extra stops within the cluster he could have made to only about twenty colonies. Midii Une had come n at that point and told him the location of five places of business on the seedier side of the sector that Tangio was said to frequent. After that, Trowa had taken on the job of reconstructing the doctored ships logs in hopes of there being enough for him to rescue to be used as evidence.

Midii, for her part had taken the task of exploring the ship for the hidey holes he surely had riddling every bulkhead. A smuggler obviously smuggled things and needed a way to transport them all that would pass preventor Space Force inspectors. The smuggler they'd caught was sly and clever with a good many tricks up his sleeve, but she herself had had dealings with tangio's kind before, even worked on a "business ship" like this for a few months; if anyone would know where to look, Midii would. It took her maybe five hours to find all the little nooks and crannies he'd had hidden away. She found the main cache under the flooring of the secondary cargo bay, but she also checked in the wall panels, the maintenance ducts, behind fake food dispenser consoles, inside and under the built-in furniture. In all of these places and more she hit paydirt. Midii knew what she was doing and it showed. But it was, predictably, in the captain's quarters that she found the most useful articles.

She walked into the cockpit where Trowa sat reconstructing the logs with a rather smug little smile on her face. She handed him two clear colored data-slots three inches long by two inches wide, by a halr centimeter in depth, a storage device commonly used in place of disks, with an air of triumph and said

"Here, these should help."

"What are they?" Trowa questioned, looking at them for markings.

"Those would be the missing logs, the doctored cargo manifests, and… Well, goods and drugs weren't the only things that Mister Tangio smuggled. Information was also on his list. The blue slot has the information, the green slot has everything else. As soon as we get this hulking rust bucket to the nearest Preventors dock, we can go home. There's enough evidence here to convict him five times over. And if we were really feeling generous we could round up a few of his friends on the way home. We have enough evidence to nail their heads to the wall right beside Tangio's."

If Trowa hadn't known any better he would have thought that Midii was enjoying her first assignment with the Preventors. This thought was a little misleading at first; technically she was working for the Consortium, so she should have been finding ways to foil him at every turn such as concealing evidence, misleading him and sabotaging his work. Instead she was giving him her full and complete cooperation without any sign of hesitation. She could be doing that simply to gain his trust and get him to lower his guard, but she seemed downright amused by something. It was only a few hours later, when Midii had begged weariness and went off to bed and Trowa was decrypting and looking over the information on those data-slots she'd given him, that he saw what had tickled her so. Mister Tangio worked in loose conglomeration with the Consortium. If Trowa decided to go after any of the fences or contacts on that five times encrypted list they'd uncovered, the Consortium would be out several of its own agents. 

Most likely it wouldn't be Trowa or Midii that was assigned the particular task of tracking the petty thugs but a few of the lesser field agents, so there would really be nothing tieing Midii to the apprehension of a few petty ring members if she was careful. So in the end she not only got the Preventors commendations on a job well done and a mission pulled off to perfection, but she also got a subtle bit of revenge on her Consortium slave drivers. Midii Une could certainly be canny.

It was exactly the moment he was thinking that when his private palm-console beeped softly at him. He'd already rigged Midii's palmtop with a small transmitter bug that would allow him to see and hear everything that was happening on her computer be it communications or accessing a computer database remotely. He'd know exactly what she did when she accessed it, he'd considered installing a small listening device in one of her preventors apparel, like her badge or something, but concluded that it would be unwise. She'd most likely look over everything they gave her with a fine toothed comb, and if she was a spy worth her salt she'd find the plants no matter how cleverly they were concealed. It was with reluctance that he had decided that he would also not tap her office or apartment either. Again, Midii was a spy and most likely would be the first to search for signs of the game; if she'd found any monitoring devices of any sort in her office or apartment she'd likely think that they were on to her and act accordingly. Trowa didn't want to make his job any harder than it had to be.

By now she probably already has some jamming devices installed in her office anyway, he thought as he brought up the screen that would be showing him the mirror of Midii's palmtop console. She clicked onto a cache with a private code; Trowa made a mental note of the password to the encryption lock and the access numbers to gain entry to the account, and continued his observation. There was a message waiting for her from the Consortium. As was to be expected it was short and cryptic giving vague allusions but never actually coming out and saying anything. In code speak however, it said: Midii Une, do you have any information yet? Report in as soon as it is safe to do so. Signed, your boss. And P.S. Your family is doing well… so far.

Not that there's any pressure, mind you Trowa thought with conscious irony. He continued to monitor the activity on her screen while simultaneously decrypting the second lock of coding on the evidence they'd gathered and perusing the photograph evidence of the "special" (meaning hidden to be smuggled) cargo shipments Midii had carefully taken.

After a few minutes the activity on Midii's screen started getting interesting. She disguised her own access to the interplanetary net-links leading back to Preventors HQ by piggy-backing it onto an information spurt in the constantly flowing data stream that composed communications between Earth and Space. From the general earth-bound location of her original data spurt she then hitched a ride on another spurt leading toward the general location she wanted. From there, she caught several more different communications bursts within that location to disguise her trail. Only then did she sneak in her own signal via one of the garbage files. Garbage files of Preventors HQ were regularly purged of irrelevant data so as not to waste memory, one of those purgings was scheduled for this time tonight. Sure enough, when the system's automatic erasure program reached that file, Midii used it to gain access to the main system and from there she had free run unless she were caught. Trowa didn't intend to rat on her, merely observe her and see what she was after.

Personnel files? he thought with a raised eyebrow. He would have thought that she'd go after the upcoming missions dossiers or the Preventors secret security files. He was further perplexed by the type of personnel files she accessed. She wasn't looking up information about high ranking Preventors (people who would mostl likely know the information she was after) or even accessing information about him for that matter; instead Midii seemed to be concentrating on lower level staff personnel. People like office clerks, or cabinet bunnies, or coffee walkers… those people didn't have access to anything remotely sensitive, they were just always _there_ running errands and gossiping, and sharing news, and listening and-

Oh! I see, he thought as Midii's screen flipped through file after file of pictures with names and personal information and histories popping up beside them. When she had finished there were three dossiers selected out of the pile.

Set a spy to catch a spy I suppose. 

She was looking for other spies. Likely other spies from the same organization she was working for, people who could report back to their fearless leader of Midii's activities. With her family held hostage by the Consotium, Midii wouldn't dare oppose them (at least not while she was being watched). Searching out rivals and/or observers was sensibly the first thing she would do. Cunning. 

Now that she knows who they are, I'd imagine she intends to avoid them from now on, he assumed. He found out a few minutes later that his assumption was completely wrong. Middi had no intentions of avoiding them, quite the opposite in fact. Midii hacked into the three counter-spies' account histories and reconstructed the accesses to the files they'd deleted and then to the histories they'd deleted to hide this fact. From there she reconstructed their mail accounts to the Consortium and intercepted a bit of mail from Mr. Smith. After changing the content of the mail she carefully erased her tracks, then sent falsified email data to Mr. Smith's account from the three counter spies telling their mysterious boss that they had possibly stumbled onto something and were going to check it out. 

After this, Midii signed off probably feeling pretty pleased with herself. She'd just sent three rivals out to die. The first would be caught up in a weapons bunker explosion while awaiting a message drop for different orders that were not going to be coming. The second would likely be killed as the resource satellite he'd been sent to investigate was scheduled also to be destroyed. The third would likely die another anonymous death as the victim of a collapsed building being demolished, he'd been ordered by Midii disguised as Mr. Smith to await orders there. All three neatly taken care of and if one or more of them survived their deaths… well they'd be out of action long enough for something else unfortunate to happen to them.

Trowa supposed he should probably feel more emotional about this. That woman had just mercilessly sent three Preventors out to die. However, Trowa often thought as a soldier first. Those Preventors had been spies, therefore they were the enemy. Midii was still, by definition, the enemy but she was a useful enemy so she could stay where she was.

* * *

With their mission completed, their trip back to HQ was a pretty quiet one. Trowa piloted the Preventors craft while Midii continued looking over and cataloging the evidence against Tangio. With their part of the investigation over with, it would now likely be delivered into the hands of those more seasoned to the realm of courtroom battles and the wars of innuendo. Trowa kept his nose out of that for the same reason he didn't go sticking it into snake pits, they were dark scary places in which the mentality of the resident's was uncertain and the only real certainty was that he would likely get bit. 

Unfortunately, the quarters of the Preventors craft in which they traveled were…cozy, to put it mildly. There was a cockpit, two bunk quarters that were so narrow he could lay his hands flat on the walls of both sides if he stretched his arms out, a small sanitizing/toiletry unit shared between them, and a tiny pantry that held all the plastic-wrapped freeze-fried bounty of the earth that a spacer could ask for. The bulk of the cruiser was taken for such necessities cargo hold, fuel, and engines. The lack of space made him aware of precisely where his partner was and what she was doing at all times; he spent the majority of his time in the cockpit, even if he didn't need to, there was more room there than existed in that closet of a bunk where the bed was about half a foot too short for him. Damn he hated being so tall sometimes. 

Midii, he noted, didn't seem to have any trouble at all sleeping, she was a very quiet sleeper too; no snoring, that was good. The only changed positions a few times in her sleep which was natural since the body resisted being kept in one position for too long. She tended to hit the snooze button twice before she got out of bed.

Speak of the devil, he thought. His sleepy spy-partner had finally decided to grace him with her presence. Even just out of bed she looked kittenishly cute with her hair still a little rumpled for her having only run a hand through it. Her enchanting aqua blue eyes looked more greenish blue this morning, like the color of a Caribbean grotto and were still heavy lidded with sleep. 

Trowa nodded a quiet good morning as Midii helped herself to the pot of instant coffee that had already been prepared by him when he'd awoken earlier. Midii made a face as she sipped the brew, Torwa raised an eyebrow in question; it wasn't that old.

"How dare they call this coffee?" she grumbled. "Sacrilege I say."

"I didn't know I was dealing with a coffee coinsurer," Trowa said with mild jocularity. 

"I require my daily dose of caffeine just like everyone else, but there must be a way of getting it without offending my delicate and discerning palate," she replied with mock-hauteur.  

Trowa had grown to look forward to seeing her in the mornings, they generally didn't talk about much before they separated to attend to their self imposed tasks, but for some reason he really didn't wish to examine too closely he looked forward to seeing her emerge from her room every morning.

* * *

Midii slid her half of the mission report into the inbox followed half a heartbeat later by her "partner." Their quick and efficient work had garnered the pair of them with some praise and notoriety. Trowa, naturally, was already famous around the Preventors headquarters, but Midii was a little unnerved by all the attention she was getting. As both a spy and a bounty hunter, Midii had stuck close to the shadows, never getting noticed or seeking attention; this constantly being stopped in the halls by perfect strangers who just wanted to congratulate her on what a fine job she did was beginning to wear on her. It was bad enough that she had to be here in the first place, she felt the usual terrible creeping guilt about lying to everyone no matter how much she tried to shove it aside; but then they had to go being all nice to her.

Spies and bounty hunters don't have friends, she reminded herself sternly. Remember the rules Midii, trust no one, never reveal a weakness, and work alone. Well, that last one was pretty much shot, even if working with a man as quiet as Trowa Barton was the next best thing to working alone it wasn't close enough; it wasn't nearly close enough. He was so damned perceptive. Why couldn't she have gotten anyone but him? Did he suspect her? Even if he did, what could she do about it? She couldn't just get rid of him like she did those three watchers, for one thing if he was suspicious of her he'd likely be on guard against that and for another… 

Stop it Midii Une, you are not going soft! she commanded herself, but she caught the note of desperation even in her mental voice. It was bad enough she had a family who was currently being held hostage against her by the Consortium in exchange for information on the Preventors activities, there was no way that she could possibly even contemplate involving him in this mess any more than he already was. If she allowed herself to care for him, even worse, to fall for him… if she let him into her heart she'd only end up bringing him down with her. No, there was no way she'd let herself hurt him anymore than she already knew she was going to. She knew that sooner or later she was going to have to cut ties and skip out on the Preventors, at that time she would leave him with the bitter knowledge that she had lied to him from the beginning of their "partnership." All of the work they would be doing together for the next few months would be revealed as a sham. She could already see the future of this road laid out before her, but she had to walk this path, there was no other choice. For the sake of her family, there was no other choice.

"Finished with your half of the report Miss Une?" a quiet voice from behind her broke into her reverie. She turned and there leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest sat the source of all of her real emotional turmoil. The chiseled planes and angles of his face stood out like shadow and sunlight and Midii found herself with the insane longing to reach up and run a hand over his face wondering if she'd find smooth skin or marble when she touched him.

"Yes," was all she said as she made her way past him. As her heels clicked sftly on the bare florring of the office building Midii called over her shoulder 

"We get our new orders tomorrow, you should go home and spend time with your family while you can."

"What about you?" he called softly after her. "Will you be spending time with yours?"

"They're beyond my reach right now. Good night Mister Barton."

"Good night Miss Une."


	12. Decisions and Revelations

Midii Une compiled the data she had collected from the Preventors database and the inter-office messages and cleverly mixed it up with the rumors, half-truths and outright fabrications she had prepared for her dear Consortium bosses. With any luck at all some of those teams would be headed straight into some very messy situations very soon. Perhaps some of them would even get caught, that would be nice. Midii herself was already planning her next few steps in the very dangerous dance she was dancing along the razors edge. If she was questioned by Mr. Smith as to why all of a sudden the teams acting on her information started getting into trouble she intended to say that her information was sketchy at best and that not a lot of people trusted her yet because she was so new, she just needed a little more time to really get something good. She already knew that they knew she was more than capable of getting precisely what they wanted and she already knew they would let her continue on practicing alone because it was too dangerous to try to get another operative on the inside so suddenly. 

And for my next trick… she thought. Well, she hadn't actually thought quite that far ahead yet. She had just been mostly concerned with getting in and gaining everyone's trust (no matter how badly she did _not_ want it) and getting rid of her unwanted watchers that she really hadn't thought about how she was going to strike back. She was already feeding them false information but she couldn't afford to keep that up for very long. If the Consortium got the notion that she was deliberately concealing things from them they most likely would hurt her family in some way just to remind Midii that it would be wise of her not to try anything suspicious. There had to be a way she could get at them! She had to do t in such a way that it would not arouse suspicions on either side. But the more she thought about it, the more hopeless the problem became.

I should try thinking about it from another angle, she counseled herself. If she kept this up, she'd chase her thoughts around in circles all night. She didn't have the time to chase her tail, not with her biggest enemy breathing down her neck. 

What did the Consortium want with all of this information? What was their ultimate goal? Midii mentally reviewed the kinds of information requested by Mr. Smith to see if there were any specific correlations.

He wanted to know the routes and times the Preventors patrolled the trade routes up in space. That made sense; the Consortium was known to finance piracy along the trade routes. What else? Information on Preventor Agents assigned to guard certain key political figures. They most likely wanted to know whether an assassination or two was possible…

Wait a minute, she thought, her heart freezing up. That's it! They wanted me assigned to this branch of the agency because they knew that eventually I would be assigned as a bodyguard to someone they find inconvenient. But who? Who could it be? If I can figure that out, maybe I can stay just enough ahead of both the Preventors and the Consortium to foil the second without alarming the first. 

This was a dangerous game she was playing, she was walking a thin line and she knew it. Not only was she a spy, but a double agent in the technical sense. While she might in the end be helping the forces of truth and justice it was a pretty good bet that people on both sides were going to be hurt or killed before this was over with. If she was really lucky, it would only be her. Midii looked over the list of known Consortium activity in the Preventors database and added it to the mental list she kept of their comings and goings and doings. It wouldn't hurt to start thinking ahead. If she could reach their target and head them off at the pass, then perhaps she would have just enough leverage to deal with the Consortium. 

I'm not going to be able to figure out their master plan in just one night, she told herself. Still, she felt a little better just knowing that she had a sketchy plan at least, from here it was just a question of which course to take. For the moment she would take what small victories she could get without compromising herself, and she was in just the exact position to do it.

I think I'll leave a mysterious present for the Preventors, I'm feeling generous. It was nothing that would get her or her family into trouble; it had nothing to do with the Consortium, only with one of their allies. Still, to Midii's mind, one of their allies was better than nothing. Anything that hindered the Consortium, even a little bit, was worth it.

*

Trowa looked over the information on Midii's computer screen as transmitted to him via his own link. She was certainly not taking her coercion lying down. Part of him was proud of her; but part of him was worried for her. It was a very dangerous game she was playing, one that would get her and her family killed if her "employers" ever found out what she was doing. Trowa himself was an accomplice by association, even if he was using her to figure out what the Consortiums agenda really was, he was still keeping her spy activities a secret from his superior officer. 

Perhaps I'm actually wrong in this instance to try to handle this alone, he mused. It was a testament to how far he had come from his former self that the thought even graced his thoughts at all. Nanashi, or even Trowa the Gundam Pilot, would not have likely even considered it. Both were trained to work alone, to fight alone, this was how they operated. Even at those few rare occasions when he had worked alongside Heero Yuy they had really not worked together, more like two separate operatives who simply happened to be working on the same mission; both of them had their own set of tasks and they accomplished them without any input or commentary from the other. However, he had learned that on occasion teamwork was really the best way to go. The battle with his friends fighting alongside him in 196 had made that clear to him.

He was a little wary about alerting anyone else, especially his superior officer, about what Midii was doing to and for the Consortium. Divided loyalties and coercion were security risks, and such risks were often expedited swiftly and efficiently.There was still the problem of what would happen to Midii if he did tell someone about her. There was the chance that she would be brought in and interrogated, there was also the chance that she would lose her position and hence her usefulness to the Consortium causing her to be summarily terminated… perhaps in a very real and no longer breathing sense. There was also the chance that if he told someone and the information was incidentally leaked out that not only could she be killed but the Consortium could lay a counter offensive with Midii as its main chess pawn. 

Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead as the old saying goes, Trowa thought. At least if it's only me and her I know who's involved and have control over all the factors, at least on my end. Inviting other players into the game might only create more problems. On the other hand, having more people means that I would have more versatility in my actions and options. Perhaps if I limited the amount of people who know about her to only those who need to know… Yes, he eventually decided after much deliberation, that would be best. Tomorrow he would contact Lady Une for a private meeting.

…

"Good morning Barton," The stern and calm visage of Lady Une said from her position across her large oak desk. "Would you like some coffee?"

"No thank you," he declined. He wasn't nervous, Trowa never got nervous; his face was the same calm mask he always wore.

"I assume you're not here for a friendly chitchat then," she replied in her customary businesslike tone. "Despite that, I would like to commend you on the expediency and thoroughness of your recent mission. That was some excellent work; how is your new partner coming along?"

"That is actually the subject I wished to meet with you about," he replied, anyone else would have been shifting in his chair but Trowa simply sat there with his passive face expressionless and his eyes unreadable. It unnerved Commander Une sometimes, the way he never seemed to move or blink, or breathe or do anything that detracted from his air of total and complete control over the situation at all times.

"Is there a problem with the new agent Mister Barton?" she inquired carefully, her tone quiet.

Trowa considered his words carefully before he started

"It's complicated…" he began and then he proceeded to give a full and detailed account of the story with Midii Une, his past with her, the odd circumstances surrounding their meeting as sort of competitors over the same bounty, finally the methods used by the Consortium to recruit Midii as a spy for them and how Trowa had been using her to track their activities. He made certain to mention the exact nature of Midii'd relationship with her employers and her dealings in passing on the information. He gave her the facts, just as he always did, and in addition he gave the reasoning behind his actions and decisions which was unusual. At the end of his report he sat back passively and awaited her reaction.

"Your decision to withhold the information regarding a threat to internal security comes dangerously close to insubordination Mister Barton," she informed him in chill tones. "But because you only went on one mission with her I'll take this as an addendum to your report on a new operative, and not an act of noncompliance with Preventers rules and regulations regarding possible known moles among the recruits." 

Trowa regarded her steadily, awaiting her final decision on the matter and questioning himself as to whether he'd done the right thing or simply made things unbearable for all involved. 

"We'll simply say you were giving her the benefit of the doubt and leave it at that," Commander Une, said with a small conspirational smile. Trowa felt a small loosening in his chest. She was on his side. Une continued

"However, because of the coercive nature of the employment of Miss Une under the Consortium, and her ignorance of your constant monitoring of her covert activities this leaves Preventors with several options open to it. This could be viewed as a rare opportunity to gather information about the Consortuim and their activities. The fact that Miss Une is feeding them false information suggests sympathy with our cause but let us not forget that that may not be her only agenda. She could have her own reasons outside of wanting revenge for her family that you don't know about. I want you to continue to monitor her activities covert and overt and report directly back to me."

"And her family?" Trowa pressed. Une studied him silently for a moment, her face unreadable; finally she said

"Because it is a hostage situation regarding the family members of an agent of the Preventors and a team of known terrorists, a team will be assembled to extract them when the time comes. Regrettably right now we need everyone in their places that includes, you, Miss Une, and her family."

"You're going to leave them there," Trowa said stonily. 

"In order for our mole to be of any use to us our enemies have to believe that they are the ones in control of her," Une pointed out with ruthless clear logic. "It's not pleasant but this is the way it has to be for now. The instant we get enough on the Consortium to nail them I will give the order for Midii Une's family to be extracted before we move in for the kill."

"Understood," he said. It wasn't fair, but this was in its own way, the nature of war. The hostages were not being harmed so they were safe where they were for the time being. Trowa knew it might not be wise to ask the question he was about to ask but something in him compelled him to ask it anyway. 

"And Midii? What happens to her after this is all over with?"

Une sighed, and regarded him analytically, as if trying to read his face for the barest hint of emotion but as usual there was nothing to read, no expression colored his tone (he could have been talking about the weather and not the possible death or court martial of an associate) no suggestion of feeling flickered through his eyes. Finally she said

"That depends on her. Due to the coercive nature of her employment with the Consortium Midii Une can be treated a little differently than a spy who works for the other side of their own free will. I believe that Miss Une will make a fine addition to our team when the dust settles. After this mission is completed she'll be reevaluated for her potential as an agent for Preventors."

"Thank you," he said quietly. He wasn't certain why Une was being so lenient on Midii, but he was grateful.

* * *

Midii walked into the briefing room, her entrance attracted some stares. She'd taken a bit of a creative hand with her Preventors uniform; the jacket might look perfectly fine and functional on most male Preventors, and adequate on most female Preventors, however Midii considered herself as having rather discerning tastes and they were somewhat offended by the bulky functionality of standard issue Preventors wear. She decided to loose that olive green bomber jacket look and go with a more flattering hunter green with black as its accenting color. She'd turned the boring collar into something a little more satisfying to her requirement for elegance with a lapel-style cut; she'd tailored the shoulders (the Preventors insignia had grudgingly been allowed to remain at the upper arm near the shoulders) and had gotten rid of the serviceable but unattractive puffy bomber sleeves in exchange for a more sleek, straightened look. She'd also lengthened the jacket so that instead of ending at the waist it carried down to the back of her knees framing the neat and attractive ensemble that she wore beneath. A black skirt that came to mid thigh exposing shapely well formed legs sheathed in hose, a charcoal blouse with a corset-like vest smoothed over a well formed torso, and as a final touch, she had the stupid tie tucked into the vest. With her hair up in an efficient French twist with one long bang styled to artfully frame one side of her face, and a pair of designer sunglasses, Midii looked like some rich man's classy Girl Friday.

Trowa was caught off guard by how very attractive she looked. The day before she had been sporting a very wild mix of lime green and fuchsia in a casual and shabby design that made it look like she didn't care at all if people thought she looked weird with her hair up in two ponytails on either side of her head making her look vaguely child-like. Today was a complete transformation from the casual ask-me-if-I-care look she'd been wearing the previous day. She looked very posh, sleek, elegant, attractive…

"Agent Une, I do not believe that the jacket is standard Preventors issue," Lady Une said as soon as Midii had taken her seat next to Trowa to begin the briefing.

"It's not," Midii said lightly, popping her gum. "I thought it would be good for the mission. I looked over the profile earlier this morning, it said we're supposed to question a high ranking government official and find out whether he's been giving information to a known terrorist organization called the United Free Earth League. We won't be successful in our initial questioning if I go in there looking like a frump. He needs to respect this organization, and if I am the visual representation of this organization I need to look like the kind of person he is accustomed to dealing with on an equal basis."

"Sensible," Lady Une said at last. "I'll let it slide. Next time you go through channels."

"Aye ma'am."

"Agent Smoke, Agent Une, the subject of your mission, senator Parker Roswell has had some small and unproven dealings with some known crime rings. Because of those dealings we believe he may now be under the coercion of the group of terrorists called the United Free Earth League. The League is anti-colonist, anti-Unitified Nation, anti-peace. In short, they're exactly the kind of organization we were set up to stop. Your task for this mission is to find out the extent of his involvement only. From there we will work on a way to extricate him from the situation he's found his way into."

"Extricate him?" Midii questioned. "Why not simply get rid of him?"

"Our sources indicate that the League is waiting for just such an opportunity, they already have Senator Roswell's heir in place. A young and brilliant politician from the Civil Awareness Party who has gained astounding popularity in the polls for the past few months and stands a good chance of winning the next election if he wasn't already on Roswells bandwagon. The young Mayor is named Lucius Marccelli, and is a covert member of the Free Earth League. If he gets into Roswells position the League will have an influence on the inside, a strong one since Marccelli can all but guarantee votes for his party with will make him popular even among those with a reserved seat."

"You think that the senator will actually talk to us and tell us everything if we ask him nicely?" Midii questioned, he tone making it clear how unlikely she found that notion.

"No," Une said patiently. "You and Barton will be extracting the information mainly through covert means. You Miss Une will be acting as Roswell's escort and, incidentally his bodyguard, to keep the League from getting rid of him by more direct means. Barton meanwhile will penetrate his home and private office to search for the list of Roswells contacts and dealings that according to our intelligence will be in an encrypted file on the harddrive of his computer."

Midii nodded, almost as if to herself, and looked up at Une

"How long is this mission likely to take?" Midii questioned. "I'll need to know how much I should bring with me."

"We've outlined a parameter for the next three days," Une informed her briskly. "Clothing and weapons will be provided for you. Anything you learn you'll pass along to Trowa. Any further questions?"

"Just one more," Une said, a trifle apologetically. "What is the risk of having to guard Roswell from internal threat?"

"Preventors teams have replaced hired security personnel on Roswell's estate. Your job is merely to stick close to him while he attends public functions."

"If you have security teams already in place then why don't you just use one of their agents to access Roswell's files?" Midii asked curiously.

"None of them have Trowa's delicate touch with accessing sensitive information," Une said with a small smile. "Good luck to you both, I anticipate another successful mission."

"Aye Ma'am," they both said quietly as they exited the office.

* * *

Next time on Along the Razors Edge: Trowa has the full approval of his superior to closely monitor Midii's covert activities and does so undetected. Midii stumbles across and unexpected complication… one that could jeopardize everything she's done thus far and everything she plans to do in the future.


	13. Watchers and Waiters

Roswell's estate was located out in the countryside, grand in an old-wolrd-mansion style. It had a walled in perimeter with a security gate, a long driveway passing through well manicured lawns, and old fashioned brickwork mansion was planted firmly in the center behind a grand fountain with angels, and climbing trellises of English roses. The butler who came out to greet them was equally old world style, complete with long snooty nose and posh accent. 

The master of the manse in direct contrast to the opulence of his surroundings was an oddly unprepossessing man; short and thin with a balding head and a nervous demeanor, he looked like he would spend all of his time looking over his shoulder. It was when Midii got a better look at him that he understood why it was that such an harmless looking man could rise to a position of such power and influence in the Earth Sphere. Behind that nervous-desk-clerk demeanor was a truly observant and cunning man, who took everything in and obviously stored it away for later; he was exactly the kind of man that Midii would have recommended for spy work, the kind that looked invisible, ineffectual, and were never noticed or if they were tended to be dismissed out of hand as unimportant. 

"Good afternoon Senator Roswell," Trowa said with quiet politeness. "I am Trowa Barton, Agent Smoke of the Preventors, and this is my partner Agent Midii Une. We would like to discuss a few matters alone with you if it isn't too much trouble."

"I am sorry Preventors, but I just got a call in from my office, urgent business you understand. Please make yourselves at home and I'll return to answer your questions as soon as possible."

Midii knew an avoidance when she saw one, if they let Roswell get away now he most likely had a shuttle ticket and some hotel reservations standing by with the excuse that his "urgent business" had called him away for the foreseeable future. Evidently Trowa saw it too for he firmly yet respectfully restrained the senator when he would have brushed by them both.

"I'm afraid this matter is urgent as well senator. Your cooperation is required," he said, his face and voice both equally impassive.

Midii immediately fell into her role as if she and Trowa were a seasoned pair who had been working together for decades. 

"Please, this will only take a moment. Then you can attend to your business." Midii tried to make her voice as gentle and placating as possible, and flashed him her most winning smile. Senator Roswell apparently was as old-world as his architecture for he said

"Far be it from me to keep a young woman waiting no matter how urgent the matter. You have my most humble apologies miss; please, let us adjourn to the drawing room and I'll have Barkwell bring us some tea."

Barkwell, who had stood silently nearby not drawing any attention to himself immediately bowed and exited the room.

 Inwardly Midii frowned. It wasn't so much the butler's holier than thou attitude as it was the odd and subtle feeling that she'd seen him somewhere before but couldn't recall quite where. Maybe it was just her imagination, after all, the butler did have one of those faces; not too round, not too square, not too thin, not to fat, not too anything; he looked so ordinary it was as if her eyes slid right past him. Servant's were, in effect, furniture, Midii had done a great deal of her own infiltration disguised as a servant simply because no one ever questioned why they were where they were as long as they looked like they were doing something.

"That would be marvelous," Midii said, flashing him another fetching smile. When she glanced over at her partner she could have sworn she saw a small expression of surprise flicker over his features before they settled into blankness once again. 

They were shown to a well lit drawing room done completely in grey-blue pastels with navy and silver as accenting colors, it looked vaguely dreamlike despite it's perfectly prosaic furniture. Midii and Trowa were seated at a short couch in front of a coffee table as Senator Roswell took his seat on the couch across from them and the ubiquitous Barkwell showed up with a tea tray. 

Midii crossed her legs (incidentally catching her intended quarry off guard by an unexpected display of flesh) and supported her saucer and teacup elegantly with one hand as she said

"Now, so as not to waste too much of your time senator I'll get right down to business. The Preventors have recently been alerted to a possible assassination attempt in collusion with a breach in your security. Because you are key to a number of very delicate situations we have been called in to examine the state of your internal security as well as to guard your life against possible outside threats," Midii said in as gentle and pleasant a voice as she could manage. 

"Who would want to kill me?" Senator Roswell inquired, his voice shaky with anxiety, and his nervousness was understandable. 

"You tell me," Trowa said. "Is there anyone you are aware of who might have an interest in seeing you dead, anyone you have regular contact with?"

There was a moment of hesitiation as Roswell debated internally, is was apparent that he wanted to say something, but didn't dare, his eyes flicked down to his tea cup as he finally said

"No… No, no-one I can think of."

"Well that's fine then and if you should think of anyone you can tell me right away; I've been assigned by Lady Une to be your bodyguard for the interim until this gets resolved. My partner Trowa will be reviewing your internal security, trying to patch the breach. We'll get this resolved as quickly as possible."

"You'll be my bodyguard?" he questioned, very obviously eyeing her assets. Midii could see his thoughts as easily as if they were written on a large light up neon sign floating above his head. He was wondering if her "bodyguarding" was going to extend to when he was showering or sleeping and if so wouldn't it be a shame to waste hot water on two instead of not showering together and he wanted her to be as near as possible during the night just in case… 

"I'll be escorting you to all external functions for the next few days," Midii said briskly. "The Preventors didn't just hire me for show you know."

Roswell smiled his most ingratiating smile at her while Trowa said nothing. 

It was a few minutes later while Trowa was setting up his "equipment" for security (that was in reality his system for hacking into Roswells computer and retrieving the data files) Midii walked over to where he was working, glanced around to ensure no one was within earshot and said very quietly

"There's something I don't like about the butler, Barkwell. Watch your back."

Then without another word or an acknowledgement from Trowa, she walked away, her heels clicking softly on the polished marble of Roswells dining room floor. Trowa obliquely watched her retreating form from under a fall of hair, anyone who knew him would almost have sworn he was admiring her figure as she walked away.

 *

So we're out to discover the extent of his involvement in illicit activities eh? Hn, shouldn't be too hard. Trowa can handle his hardware so I guess it's up to me to hack into his er, software. There's obviously someone he's afraid of but given the types of men who work for the kinds of groups that the good senator is likely involved in that's really not too surprising, she considered on the limousine ride to the senator's luncheon with a few of his party supporters. 

She looked over the data about the Free Earth League on her PDA, a small group, local in their practices, possibly global in their ambitions, in other words; small fry. The only real reason that the Preventors were watching them was because they had connections with several known arms dealers. She'd looked over the faces of the operatives on the Free Earth League briefly earlier but now took the time to look closer.

Ah! Hello, she thought in surprise as she glanced closely at one of the faces on the PDA screen. She recognized it.

I thought he looked familiar somehow.

Byron McCairrinon. He was Third Level member of the Consortium, part of the watchers as a matter of fact. Midii had had occasion to familiarize herself with the watchers, an intelligent move if she wanted to stay well out of their sights. The Consortium had had occasion to have a person or group of people put under covert or overt watch from time to time just in case they should get the notion to come clean to the authorities, thus the small sub-sect called they unimaginatively called 'the watchers.' 

Byron however has played both sides of the fence before, she recalled. Midii didn't know all of the details seeing as trying to keep out of the workings of the Consortium had been one of her primary goals for quite a few years, but McCairrinon had sold information about one of the men he had been set to watch to a contact for the Alliance about seven years ago. He'd never been caught by his Consortium employers, but that was only because the Alliance contact had disappeared a few hours after the information reached his destination.

Come to think of it, that Alliance base was wiped out a month or two later, perhaps he isn't a double agent after all but had planted the information deliberately," she thought disappointedly. Damn, and here I was hoping I could blackmail Barkwell, or should I say Byron McCairrinon, into simply giving me the information. Nah, that's wouldn't have worked anyway. As soon as I did he would have told one of the higher ups and then my family… Damn! Well this makes things complicated. Now I'll have to operate on the assumption that Byron has been alerted by the Consortium to watch me and my dealings with the Preventors for any sign of treachery as well. It's just as likely that he…

She trailed off, it finally struck her out of the blue

Wait a minute… if Byron is a watcher for the Consortium, then that means that he knows about the Free Earth League terrorists as well. Hmmmm. In-ter-est-ing. The Consortium, aside of having been widely known as a dealer in weapons and armaments on that sector, has also spawned or used several terrorist organizations as convenient chess pawns to disguise their own activities. Could it be that Free Earth League is merely one of their fronts? If so then there's a lot more going on here than meets the eye.

Midii began to rethink her situation. 

* 

Trowa kept half an eye on the monitors for his careful infiltration of Roswells private files (the one he didn't want anyone looking at) and half an eye on the screen that showed Midii's private PDA and palmtop monitors. Nothing interesting was happening on either of them yet. The former held nothing but boring run of the mill stuff; campaign funds embezzlement, corporate kickbacks, pork barrel stuff… the usual, nothing extrodinarily surprising for a politician. The latter held nothing more than Midii re-reviewing her mission data. 

Patience was its own reward, but he could have hacked Roswell's system in his sleep with both hands tied behind his back and only his tongue with which to touch the keys. On second thought falling asleep trussed up like a turkey sounded pretty uncomfortable, it was bad enough being as tall as he always was. He glanced up at the third screen on his system, a divided view of their security screens clicking over every second with a continuous reception to his private camera he had installed outside the halway of the room he was working on. With no other exits, Trowa was reasonably certain that he wouldn't be getting any surprise visits.

Midii on the other hand… he thought darkly. Her room was far less secure. Trowa was damned near certain that there was some kind of secret access from Roswell's room to hers, not that he didn't think she couldn't take care of herself, but Midii had enough to concentrate on without fending off the slobbering advances of the person she had been nominally assigned to protect. As with the rest of her situation, Trowa couldn't think of a single thing he could do to aide her without causing her even larger problems; frustratingly, it seemed that the only thing he could do was to wait and see what she did. 

He glanced at her screen again and his eyes met blankness. That likely meant that she had arrived at her destination and had turned off her PDA. 

So now Commander Une's in on this. I wonder where it will go.

* * *

Midii kept her senses alert as she scanned about the meeting room. Her sophisticated equipment had yet to pick up any trace of bugs or covertly hidden minature cameras in the pluch oak paneled and leather-lined room that smelled of tobacco and testosterone. None of the other guests looked at all nervous about anything; to them this was simply another social gathering to discuss their party lines or any recent developments in their overall agenda. Likely any of the latest news stories involving any of their party members would be examined in minute detail to figure out what effect it was likely to have on them. 

Meanwhile the other half of her mind was busy mulling through the situation at hand.

If McCairrinon has been assigned to watch Roswell that means he has or knows something that is likely to damage their agenda. Funny, normally the Consortium would just send in someone to remove Roswell quickly and quietly if they already had a more suitable replacement poised to take control. In their book their use for Roswell is over since he has become more of a threat to security than an asset to their cause, so why haven't they? She thought in puzzlement. It made no sense; the Consortium had never hesitated before now so why had they taken the time to get and agent like McCairrinon in place within Roswells household and not simly rid themselves of Roswell altogether?

There must be something stopping them. Either it's Roswell himself, in which case it's going to take a whole lot more than a team of Preventors to dig him out of the mess he's likely made incurring the wrath of the Consortium as a whole; or, they don't have all of their pieces in place yet and so can't make any moves against Roswell without getting rid of whatever obstacles lie in their path first. There might be a third option; it's also possible that they've found another use for the man and are currently working on a way to get him in the position they want him in, namely, the one where he will do them the most good. 

Then there was the matter of Barkwell/McCairrinon himself; was he a watcher only for Roswell or had he been told to keep an eye on Midii Une as well? There was also the matter of Roswells replacement, Lucius Marcceli. He was a covert member of the terrorist group Free Earth League, it wasn't so much him as the people he worked for that worried Midii Une. Was Free Earth just another one of the Consotiums fronts? If so, then did he know that? I fhe did that meant he was really working for the Consortium. 

Time will tell, she thought bringing her attention back to the meeting. For now, I'll simply have to wait.

Midii Une wasn't kept waiting long. Lucius Marcelli himself approached her at the party. At first it looked like he was merely interested in a glass of port and a lovely woman to speak to, but there was something in his narrow-eyes gaze that caught Midii Une. She met his eyes directly, searching, searching for that tiny clue that would confirm her suspicions. He held her gaze, wavering then nodded once.

"I know you play the game," he said quietly, his tone pitched to carry only to her and then fade into the background chatter. Midii nodded once, barely perceptibly.

"Chesspawns are always undervalued."

"Whose side are you on?" he demanded quietly.

"The same side I'm always on," she answered just as softly. "Mine."

"Who do you work for?" he questioned.

"Rule number one; no names," she said in the voice of a teacher reminding her student of a lesson so elementary it should be second nature. She would have liked to ask Marcceli the same thing he'd asked her but she couldn't be certain of getting an honest answer out of him. 

She at least got some information from him that he hadn't meant to give away. For one thing, he didn't know about Midii Une or her assignment to infiltrate the preventors which meant that there was one less person likely to watch her. Oh, he could have been setting her up but Midii didn't think so, politician or not he was still too new to the game in her eyes to cover up some of his more obvious tells. She was able to read him like a book after only a few minutes in his presence and everything she read told him that he knew nothing about her. The second thing that he had given away was that he likely didn't know about the Consortium either, if he did he would likely have been alerted to her status by the code-sentence she had used in her first utterances to him. She knew he didn't know anything about the Consortium and hence about her because there was no way he would have been able to hide a reaction of recognition from her, nor would he have likely asked the questions he asked her after hearing the sentence. 

Which also means that either the Free Earth League is real and he's a member of it, or that the Free Earth League is a fake, and a front for the Consortium, and he doesn't know that he's being manipulated. The Consortium has a grander plot here than just their usual small time stuff of information-mongering and small-time arms dealing. This might be pretty big.

* * *

Next time on Along the Razors Edge: Midii does some covert information gathering on the Consortium but things just don't add up. Trowa, monitoring every one of Midii's moves, reports back to Lady Une and receives a slight change in the Priority of Midii Une. Look forward to it please!


	14. Spies and Counterspies

After her encounter with Lucius Marcelli the party seemed to drag on. She wanted desperately to get back to her private laptop and begin some real investigation for as of that moment she was flying mostly blind, operating on only partial information and if there was one thing Midii didn't like, that was it. The roomful of porcine politicians stuffed fat on their own self-importance seemed stifling and thick, the time seemed to drag by so slowly that moving backwards would have seemed an improvement. Still, she endured it and performed her designated function keeping a weather eye out for any sign of threat, no matter how subtle, towards her charge but the evening of cigar-smoking, port-drinking and hearty pomposity continued uneventfully.

One or two of the "gentlemen" who had gotten a little more port inside of themselves than was advisable had tried a move or two on her. One had patted her posterior and made a suggestive remark, another had groped her breasts… they'd recover in time but as for right then, the closet was a good place for them. Midii hadn't gotten to her level of proficiency without knowing how to take care of herself. 

Her own charge, Roswel, seemed to be a trifle off-color himself as she escorted him out to his limo and climbed in after him. Midii sincerely hoped he didn't try anything on her for she didn't really have the option of dumping him inside a closet for the rest of the evening. Fortunately he was civilized enough on the ride back to his estate; his suggestive commentary about the extent of her body-guarding skills could be ignored. Besides, he shut up after she told him that if he was feeling that insecure about sleeping alone and unguarded that night, that her partner would be happy to set up a post on the inside of his quarters. 

The lockdown of the estate was uneventful as well. Midii did a final perimeter check confirming that status was green, then went to check in with her partner before turning in for the night. 

"Everything checks out Trowa. All clear on your end?"

"The security net is armed and if anything unusual happens I should be able to detect it with the additional measures I've put in place," Trowas said succinctly. As usual he wasted few words and his expression was as inscrutable as ever.

"Then if it's alright with you, I'm for bed," she said with a wave in his direction. Trowa nodded absently his attention already on the screen.

*

Trowa watched the screen showing the interior of her sleeping quarters; he was no voyeur however the circumstances surrounding Midii were a trifle extraordinary and he needed to know where she was at all times. He didn't follow her into the bathroom where she promptly undressed, showered and changed into sleeping clothes, he respected her right to some privacy, however it was after she emerged from her shower that things got really interesting, at least from a professional standpoint. 

Midii switched on her personal palmtop and promptly began hacking her way into an obscure corner of the netlinks, a simple online archive holding the history of wheat-growth throughout the world in AC 133. It was unlikely anyone would ever have any interest in seeking something so obscure and irrelevant that it was a likely place to find a secret database hidden within the obscure little niche that would be overlooked by anyone who wasn't looking for something. And even if they were looking for something they likely wouldn't find it Trowa realized a few short moments after she accessed the wheat archive. There were several complex coded entries and security check-points to be passed in order to gain access to the database. Midii knew all of the right things to say and code words to give and Trowa observed silently as she was allowed access into the Consortium Underground's main database. She'd logged on under an assumed identity of course and Trowa knew from irritating personal experience that her identities were all but airtight, right now the consortium likely had no idea that it was she who had just gained access or there would have been inquiries into just why their pet spy suddenly wanted to know so much.

What's she after? he wondered as she by passed the outstanding missions files and headed straight to the personnel database. He soon figured it out as the man whose face she pulled up on screen exactly resembled that of Roswel's so-superior butler. Midii pulled up a short history of recent orders that had been given to the "watcher" and found out along with her that "Barkwell" was actually an Expendable and was expected to die on this mission. Of course the Consortium wouldn't tell him that, but they had known about his walking of the other side of the fence and had deemed it necessary to get rid of him. She seemed to be searching for something in his recent message account histories but evidently either found or did not find whatever it was she was looking for. 

Midii catiously investigated the mission parameters surrounding the Montgomery Plan as it was dubbed. The Free Earth League was a pawn used by the Consortium in order to easily ship goods from point to point in that sector, Luccius Marcelli was a dedicated member of Free Earth and thus a pawn of the Consortium who had been the real power behind getting him ensconced in power in addition to that it turned out that Luccius also had a… desire for little boys and ran an underground kiddie-porn ring. It would be a disaster to his reputation if it were ever to get out so the Consortium took great pains to keep Marcelli's dirty little secret a secret so that he could continue serving their interests in a position of some influence within that particular party. The plan was to remove Roswel from his current position by getting him assigned to a the legislature board/committee/sub-committee that writes a lot of the laws involving the monitoring of certain transportation vessels and what was allowable and what was not. Once there, they would use the blackmail they had already manufactured for their use to coerce Roswel into doing their bidding. With a strong political backer such as his heir supporting all of his new policies or line-vetoes of already written legislature his decisions on the matter would lkley be final and the Consortium would be able to smuggle arms and about anything else in that sector virtually unchecked. 

That's a large undertaking for something so very small-time, Trowa though dubiously. All of this trouble just to get someone on the board for writing legislature about transportation that would make their job a little easier in one sector? It sounded a little off to him. There had to be something larger; then again, maybe not. The Consortium wasn't exactly a huge deal, rather more on the small-fry sort of the spectrum, or at least it had been. Perhaps that was changing.

Trowa would have liked to have stuck around and investigated the rest of the files in that hidden and secured database run by the Consortium but Midii had already gotten what she had come for and was withdrawing, carefully hiding her backtrail that led back to her computer. Trowa was pleased and relieved to note that it would take a diligent man at least three days to unravel her trail and by then she would have been alerted to a seeker and taken preventative measures.

So, now we know the master plan in this instance. The question is, what to--… oh, look, she's moving again.

Trowa had thought that Midii was done for the evening but there was yet more activity on her screen. She was accessing the data on Luccius Marcelli's disgusting practice and apparently finding every single shred of hard evidence that could be gotten. At least that was the appearance; work like this would take several evenings of concentrated effort to bear real fruit and stand up in court. In a case with a high publicity rate it likely wouldn't even have to be enough to stand up in court; the accusation alone and some small evidence given anonymously would be enough; there would be an investigation made and the rest would attend to itself… whether or not there was a fast cover up, Marcelli would be ruined politically, taking his tainted political influence with him on his way down to the depths of obscurity and saving Trowa the trouble of possibly having to remove him by other means. The truth would set them free in this case. As for Roswel, that was Trowas job apparently as Midii had decided to sign off for the evening likely with the feeling of a job well done. 

He glanced over in the monitor that showed the interior of her sleeping chamber and saw her put away her private console, switch off her light and climb under the covers of her bed. The camera had naturally "skipped over" her room while she was working on accessing the hidden database, it was only to be expected that she would freeze up security in the vicinity while she was working on something that no one was supposed to know about besides herself. Spies didn't trust anyone. Still, Trowa thought he'd been pretty lucky so far in his monitoring of her activities; she hadn't caught onto him yet. If she could hold off disassembling her private console and checking for bugs a while longer no doubt they could get enough rope on the Consortium to hang them with. 

Trowa tapped in a private line on his own computer directly to the vid-phone in Une's home office adjacent to her bedroom. It was too late for her to still be at headquarters so it was the likeliest place to catch her. Sure enough her weary yet still made-up face appeared on his screen a few minutes later. She was obviously still working, burning the midnight oil.

"It's late Barton," she informed him with a frown. "Don't you remember about that little discussion we had about time-zones a while ago?"

"I am aware of the time," Trowa replied. "However, I believe you wished me to keep you abreast of Miss Une's movements."

"She doesn't waste time does she," Commander Une muttered under her breath. "Very well, make your report Barton."

Trowa faithfully reported all of the details from his monitoring of her progress, including the whole of the Consortium's Mongomery Plan. There were some blind spots in his report from times when he could not risk covert surveillance of Midii, when she'd been working as Roswel's bodyguard early during the day, but his ability to monitor her anti-Consortium activities suffered no such lacks and was as complete as he could risk on even a private channel.

"It's obvious from the information she went seeking after just now that she intends to take Roswel's Consortium-pawn/successor out of the picture before she allows the Preventors to move in on Roswel himself," Une concluded when he had finished. "What really worries me about their plan are the implications."

"Such as?" Trowa queried.

"Well, the Consortium was mostly into smuggling and dealing in armaments; that's their base of profit and even if they were trying to expand their influence into other territories most of those territories are already well staked by other rings and they'd have some fighting to do if they wanted to annex someone else's established presence. If they're trying to make their arms smuggling easier then that must mean that they have a reason for doing so. It's a fact that since the wars ended their profits have taken a down turn, a big one. Supplying weapons to the piddly little rent-a-cause pop-up-terrorist organizations that the Preventors have been stopping one by one as they crop up and the Space Pirates have been their main mode of keeping afloat. Their product just isn't as in demand as it was when there were a lot of wars ranging all over earth and space. That fact alone tells me that there's something more going on here."

"Have there been anymore terrorist activities lately?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"No," she said, frowning. "Everything has been quiet."

"Too quiet," Trowa said, finishing her thought for her.

Une stared somewhere off to her left, her face unreadable as she puzzled something out. Apparently she came to a decision very quickly for she snapped her attention back to the screen. She said

"Barton, you have a new priority now that supersedes even the importance of the official mission you've been placed on."

Trowa merely looked at her steadily, awaiting orders. Une did almost nothing without a purpose; he liked that in a leader.

"Protect Midii Une. She's our only concrete link to the Consortium and their activities. If the shit hits the fan and we're caught off-guard she may be the only one who can get the information we need in time. I don't think that it's likely that they'll move any time soon since they've been cautious in their activities so far. I'll send out a few decoy missions for her to tell her employers about just so she can say she's doing her job, it's now become imperative that our spy not be put at risk; she can't be allowed to be called back or terminated by the Consortium. 

"Aye Ma'am," he said. Trowa didn't ask why Midii had suddenly become so important. Obviously something had occurred to place the Consortium mission on a higher priority than it had been and Midii had been included in that. He would have protected Midii even if the Commander hadn't asked but it was nice to have official sanction and the go-ahead to blow anyone's head off who threatened her.

They made their short and succinct partings and signed off. Trowa looked at the automatic programs he had running on Roswel's computer drives accessing files. He already knew they would find nothing, they were more for counting how much memory the hard drives used officially so that he could tally it up and subtract it from the hard drives actual capacity based on a physical examination of the hard drive itself. It made the job easier if he knew how large the files he was looking for were likely to be. And since the program ran automatically he could get some sleep as well. 

He stretched out in the bed (this one was long enough for him!) and closed his eyes. Midii was now his top priority, even placed above his missions for the Preventors… and she was the last thing he thought of before he went to sleep. 

* * *

Midii couldn't sleep. Despite the luxuriously soft bed with its sumptuously satin sheets and its feather-down comforter that felt so warm and soft… she lay awake staring out into the darkness. The Consortium had always been small time. They dealt in information for a price, they'd contracted Midii to the Alliance in order to complete the Alliance's annihilation of the rebels in A.C. 190, they sold weapons to Space Pirates and small terrorist groups. But Midii had been around long enough to know that their current plans and activities were anything but small time.

That explains why they brought me back in, she thought darkly. They needed a spy to keep an eye on the largest and most effective organization standing in their path to their ultimate objective… whatever it is. I hope it's not something really corny and stupid like world domination, that's been done to death and beyond. They needed a spy to infiltrate the Preventors and for a priority this big they wanted their best so they called me back in.

It was all fine and good to thwart a few of their plans here and there but Midii needed to see the big picture if she was going to form any real plan of action. Right then her plans mostly consisted of stay alive, don't get caught by either side, and eventually make Mr. Smith pay. The long term goal was the one that counted. If she wanted her revenge she was going to have to start getting more information than she already had, she needed to know their ultimate objective. If she knew that then she could project their likeliest moves and stop them. If too many of their smaller strategies fell through then they would not have a base on which to build their larger ambitions. 

Most of all she wanted Mr. Smith to pay; she wanted him to see his empire in flaming rubble all around him. She wanted all of his allies locked away with no chance of seeing freedom for at least twenty years. Hell she wanted them put away for life but she knew that realistically twenty was the best to hope for with the kind of money they could put at their own disposal and the kinds of lawyers and judges they could buy and the cover-ups they could commit. Still, Smith was her primary objective. Part of her wanted him dead for what he'd done to her and how he'd threatened her family, but the rest of her wanted him alive and well and able to suffer. And there was a small voice inside of her, the remnants of her child-self that had been forced into hiding far too early that wanted him put away in a place where he could never harm her again, where he could never make threats to her again… where she would at last be safe.

I'm accustomed to doing everything by myself, she thought as she ruminated alone in the dark. But I'm beginning to wonder if there is a way I can accomplish all of this on my own. How do I bring down a well-established organization that's been around since before I was a little girl? How do I bring Smith's world crashing down around his ears and still have all of them held accountable? How do I do all of this _and_ still rescue my family?

It was too much to think of all at once. Even though she had gotten rid off all known moles within the Preventors she still could not risk turning her coat and running to the Preventors. She had to keep her Nanashi safe and she didn't want him to know she'd been a traitor even under duress. She'd always handled everything herself and that was the only way she knew how to fight. If she could stall them from making any moves on their larger plans then she'd be able to gather the information she needed discreetly without attracting their attention to her counter-espionage activities. If she had enough time and enough information she knew she'd be able to think of a way to bring them down _and_ save her family. She had to.

Lucius Marcelli was a start; she'd just move carefully and work from there.

I'll have to be very careful, she thought. If the Consortium suspects that I am behind any of their foiled plans they wont hesitate to hurt or kill my family. Oh! I just want all of this to be over with! I'm tired of it all, I'm tired of the killing; I'm tired of the lies and the manipulations! I just want to be normal. I want to fall in love like a normal girl, I want to go to school, have a regular job that doesn't involve bullets and body-counts.

But the more realistic part of her knew that she'd never be a normal girl. She'd seen too much, been through too much to ever be that innocent again. Still, being free of the Consortium would go a long way toward returning her to a semblance of normalacy. If a semblance was all she could ever know she'd take it and be happy for that.

* * *

The next day was uneventful with Roswel staying tamely in hiding and the two partners working quietly on his internal security system. Midii allowed herself to be entertained by her host mainly as a way to keep him out of Trowa's hair so that he could work in peace and quiet. He appreciated that. She always seemed to be able to anticipate exactly what he needed or wanted and always seemed to have it right there at his elbow precisely when he needed it. Part of him felt a little bad for letting her do som much of her own hard work (he knew she was working on her own in secret to gather that information on Lucius Marcelli) and assist him in his as well but he soothed his nagging conscience with the thought that he was doing a lot of extra work to protect her and her secret so it was a trade-off whether she knew it or not. 

The next day led to the quick and satisfactory conclusion of their mission. In the morning Roswel decided to aid his Preventor bodyguards by taking all of his business in his private home office. Midii was occupied taking her turn checking over the house security form the monitor room while Trowa dismantled Roswel's computer hard drives in his office. They both knew they were close to finding the missing information but Midii left it to Trowa to do the legwork on this one since she was doing all of the work, whether they knew it or not, of getting rid of Marcelli. 

It was while Trowa was taking apart Roswel's computer that the expected conversation took place. Roswel spilt all. He was involved with the consortium to further his own political ambitions. The stepping down of one or two top politicians had left a bit of a power vacuum and he and his cohorts were scrabbling after a piece of the pie like dogs fighting under the table. The Consortium had promised him a promotion to a more powerful position if he would do them one or two minor favors when he got to his seat of power. They had told him that it wouldn't be anything really major just a line veto about shuttle cargo manifests once the bill came up for legislation. 

"…Never meant any one any harm it's just that now they have this watcher watching me all of the time and I can't get free of it all," he said, his hands working over and over themselves in his nervousness. That was when Trowa sensed more than heard or felt the presence of Roswels watcher. Barkwell had a gun pointed at his "employer" and likely planned to kill Trowa next. 

The next few moments were a blur as Trowa's battle honed instincts took over and he simply reacted on impulse. He pushed Roswel out of the path of the gun as the sniveling politician was still in too valuable a position to be cannon fodder just yet, while Trowa reacted as one trained to expect the techniques of an assassin could; he simultaneously threw one of the blades he kept up the sleeves of his preventors jacket at Barkwell. Barkwell fell backwards to the floorboards, a throwing dagger sticking out og his throat. As Trowa saw this he momentarily cursed himself; they could have brought him in for questioning! Then he thought better of it, he might have implicated Midii Une and if there had been another person in the room besides himself and the Commander things might have gotten sticky. 

Midii came rushing into the room a few minutes later to see what the matter was to find a dead body cooling on the highly shined mahogany wood floorboards. 

"Our mission has been accomplished Miss Une," Trowa said calmly as she checked for a pulse and he called in for a clean-up crew. "We have Roswel's full cooperation, the Preventors are working on finding a way to extricate him from the situation he's found himself in and there's nothing like being a victim to help a political career. We can head back to base with the information we were assigned to gather and let others more qualified in the kinds of things this man will be needing from here on out handle it from now on."

"Fine with me," she said affably. "I was already mostly done here anyway."

Trowa was unsurprised to hear on the news on the way back to headquarters the latebreaking and entirely shocking story of rising political star Lucius Marcelli's sudden arrest in the middle of the night being brought up on charges of supporting and distributing child pornography. It was another mission with a satisfactory conclusion.

* * *

Next time on Along the Razors Edge… The dance begins in earnest with Midii getting a dire reminder of how precarious her position really is.

_"Your efforts aren't good enough Une, and I don't like that insubordination in your tone. I think you need to be reminded who is in charge here."…_

_"Please don't do this," Midii begged, her voice trembling…._

_"That bastard," Lady Une said as she continued to monitor the exchange. "That kid's barely twelve years old."…_

Look forward to it please!__


	15. Exposition and Plans

"Midii, so good of you to finally report in," the suave, urbane voice of her erstwhile tormentor said from the other side of the monitor screen. "I was getting worried."

"I can't hold this channel open long; security is tight in this place."

"What have you got for me?"

"Security in sector 5x12x82 has been compromised I recommend you find the agent before they find you. Contact Points Epsilon and Gamma on the ninth latitude have been compromised sever all connections before proceeding with operations in that sector. A raid on Proxima three has been planned, I suggest you abort all operations in that sector and evacuate immediately. They plan to start investigating the unusual covert activities near point 27 x 9 x 14 it would be wise to tone down you presence in that area otherwise they'll realize that it's the Consortium working and not that resistance front you're using. That's all I have so far."

"Hmm, very good. However, I've noticed that your information up until this point has been sketchy and unreliable. Several of my teams have been compromised, obliterated, or discovered. I expect better of you Une, you're our best."

"I've done what I can sir," Midii replied trying to keep her tone flat an emotionless. "Security is tight here. If I had tried to decrypt their files any further it would have set off alarms throughout the system. I've gotten you what information there is to be found. Give me a while longer and they'll start removing my security blocks and I'll have freer access to their system. In the meantime, perhaps if I had a general idea of what you're looking for I could concentrate my efforts only on getting what you actually need instead of wasting energy and resources on what is ultimately for you at least useless information."

"Your efforts aren't good enough Une, and I don't like that insubordination in your tone," said Smith, leaning back into his plush treated-leather chair. "I think you need to be reminded who is in charge here."

"I don't sir," she protested, still trying to keep her voice even.

"Too late," he said with a small smile, making Midii suspect that he had planned it all along. "Darkness, bring the boy."

"Alex!" she cried as the face of one of her younger brothers was brought on screen. 

"Please don't do this," Midii bagged, her voice trembling. The knife drew nearer to her younger brothers littlest finger. There was no sign of mercy or emotion in the face of the man referred to only as Darkness. It was abundantly clear that he would have no qualms about torturing and maiming a child if he was ordered to do so.

"You will redouble your efforts miss Une," Smith said in a tone that brooked no arguments or excuses. "Your information will be complete and reliable. You know the penalty for failure and don't even think about double crossing us and selling us out to the Peventors. No matter where you try to hide yourself or your family, in the end… we will find you."

"Yes sir," she said obediently, her voice a flat and emotionless monotone. The monitor blinked off and Midii smiled slowly in triumph in the shadows of the darkened office.

"I gotcha now," she murmured into the darkness. Looking in pleasure at the information she had covertly downloaded from Smiths own hard drive, all of his personal files, all of the mission files that would be coming up, the files that would the Consortium's overall plan for their activities were now downloaded into a sextuple encrypted detachable memory pod. 

As a bounty hunter not all of her "hits" had been taking people out, a lot of them had included spy work or counter-espionage and she had learned a lot of new tricks that the agents of the Consortium had never taught her. That didn't mean that there was no chance that they wouldn't catch onto what she was doing, just that it was a lot less likely; especially with the security measures she had already put in place. 

There's no way I can risk opening the file here, she reminded herself. For one thing this computer was "public" as in anyone in the Preventors could use it with the right security clearance, any file she opened here would leave traces behind on the hard drive that could be uncovered with the right amount of work. This was one thing she didn't want any traces of anywhere outside of her control, it would be dangerous if either side discovered her; so despite her burning curiosity it would just have to wait until she reached a secure location.

*

Trowa Barton and Commander Une watched the monitor of the secure room that their inadvertent double agent had accessed extremely late on the same night that she and Barton had returned from their mission concerning Roswel. Une hadn't believed she'd move that fast but Trowa had convinced her to stick around and see if she tried anything so that Lady Une could see Midii in action.

"I have to give her this," Une said after a long pause of her working through the various security protocols on the computer itself. "She not only works fast and thoroughly, she's also very good at what she does. I wonder exactly how far her skills extend."

"I don't know, I think it would be a fairly obvious tip-off if we asked her right now however," Trowa felt obliged t o point out.

"Yes it would, but by all evidence so far Midii Une would rank as a Class Ultra-A espionage agent, not including her bounty hunter work of course," Lady Une said sipping her tepid tea and observing the young woman work swiftly and efficiently thinking she was unobserved in the room. The official security monitors in the room had naturally already been jammed and she'd run a sweep for additional bugs or security devices, apparently more as a matter of habit than because she suspected anything. Trowa had already set the covert monitor on a different frequency that was resistant to most conventional hand-held sweeping devices and they had been able to observe her without detection.

"There is a lot of reconnaissance and information-gathering involved in bounty-hunter work don't forget," Trowa murmured absently as he watched her patch the system through to the Consortium boss she reported to "Mr. Smith" and open a channel while simultaneously covering her tracks on the computer and running counter-detection programs.

"I don't recognize him from any of our files," Une commented as she got a good look at Mr. Smith when he greeted Midii.

"He must be someone we've never really had occasion to cross paths with before, either that or he's very good at hiding himself," Trowa said. Then he noted that Midii was covertly moving her fingers over the keypad of the computer. "Hm, I wonder what she's up to now."

"It seems that she's taken the bait on those decoy missions I left out for her," Une said, sounding pleased as she listened in to their conversation. "I wonder if she suspects anything. Either way it's unlikely to matter, if she doesn't suspect anything we win and get a lock on a few of the Consortium's controlled sectors; if she does suspect something it's not very likely she'd tell them anything just out of sheer spite."

"But if she does suspect something it will make her twice as guarded. Spies are known for their paranoia, it's how they stay alive."

"That bastard," Une said as she continued to monitor the exchange. "That kid's barely twelve years old."

"It is unfortunate," Trowa agreed. "But they are in no real danger unless Midii gets caught." Then he narrowed his focus from the events happening on screen to the more interesting event playing off screen and panned the camera in on Midii's hands. "I wonder what it is she's doing with that memory pod. She appears to be accessing and downloading something and then covering her tracks."

"She must have nerves of steel to be able to work on a download while her family is being threatened," Une said severely, then gave a small smile. "I like that."

The monitor winked off and Midii Une said into the silence "I gotcha now."

"I would give a lot to know what exactly she meant by that," Une said judiciously, the wheels in her head were already turning. Trowa nodded in agreement.

"If we're lucky she'll access the information from her private console once she's in a location she feels is secure," he said. "I have a feed direct from her console to mine that she hasn't detected yet."

"Very good, once you find anything out we'll proceed from there."

Trowa nodded and exited the room.

He would likely only get one shot at this. Once she got to the tiny efficiency she rented for the duration of the time she was working for the preventors she's likely run a full sweep of the apartment on all frequencies, even the lesser known ones, then set up a localized jamming device for even the obscure channels; if the information was what he thought it might be he was betting that she wouldn't be taking any chances. His access to her panel was likely to be cut off. How was he supposed to monitor someone who likely knew every trick in the trade and then some? Electronics could be swept or jammed too easily and she wouldn't do something so amateurishly stupid as to leave the blinds or drapes open so that he could read her lips.

There is another way I could go he considered. But it's risky. I might end up hurting her or myself or both. He could try the age old seduction routine, keep her distracted long enough for him to get a transmitting chip on the pod itself so that whenever she accessed the information it would transmit the entire contents of the pod to his computer as soon as it got out of range of the jamming devices. There was a bit of a problem with that however… he wasn't exactly Don Juan DeMarco. While he might be attractive enough and he wasn't _inexperienced_ with women, Trowa was better known for his icy demeanor and analytical detachment than he was for having a way with women. Practical aspects aside, deep down, Trowa knew he didn't want to get romantically involved with Midii Une if he had an ulterior motive. He liked to think of it as an unspoken agreement, she hadn't made any sorts of moves on him even though for many spies seduction was standard procedure just to make their job easier, Trowa couldn't do any less to honor the agreement so seduction was out of the question. 

Well if monitoring her by electronics was unlikely to succeed, and seduction was out what did that leave him?

Then it hit him, he'd just be one step ahead of her! He could leave his monitoring devices in place and merely tamper with her sweeping and jamming devices so that they worked for everything but the channels he was working with. However… he'd need to buy some extra time. He took out his cell phone and dialed up Lady Une as he knew she was likely to still be up and about at this time seeing as he had just left her side fifteen minutes ago.

"Barton? Is something the matter? Were you discovered?" she asked in bewilderment.

"No," he said. "But I'm going to need you to do something for me quickly. I want you to call Midii and tell her you need to see her about something. It doesn't matter what it is just make it plausible and stall her. I need to get into her apartment and tamper with some of her equipment."

"Done," Lady Une said and signed off immediately. Trowa hid his vehicle in a darkened alley half a block away from Midii's apartment and watched her lighted window (the blinds were closed tightly). Approximately seven minutes later Midii emerged from the front entrance and walked in the direction of Headquarters. Apparently walking alone at night didn't bother her, granted that it was on the better side of town; still, Trowa had to fight the sudden urge to either follow her at a discrete distance to make certain that she arrived unmolested or simply appear out of nowhere and offer to walk with her to headquarters on some flimsy excuse that he was going the same way too. He fought the urge to protect her in this instance even though protecting her was part of the mission profile outlined by Lady Une, he had a different mission to accomplish and that mission came first in this instance.

* * *

Next time on Along the Razors Edge; Trowa finds out precisely what the Consortium is after when he accesses the downloaded data on Midii's computer…

_That's it?! Trowa thought when he read it. **That's their master plan?! That's what they're going through all this trouble for?!**_

Look forward to it please!


	16. Catchup and Conversations

Midii was surprised when her phone rang and she was graced with the countenance of Lady Une at approximately one in the morning. The Lady said she wanted to see Midii immediately to discuss a few details about the next mission they were likely to be sent on. Midii didn't know Lady Une well enough to discern whether she was actually telling the truth or not but the circumstances had seemed a little suspicious to her. As any good spy would she immediately suspected the worst and prepared for it. She armed herself with a few of her milder weapons from her bounty hunter work, the ones she used when her hit-profiles stressed "capture unharmed" rather than "kill" and began to walk back to the headquarters nearby. 

She absentmindedly watched the empty streets and shadowed alleyways as she walked back to the headquarters of the Preventors alone. She was more than capable of handling her own in a one on one fight or even if she was accosted by a group, but it never hurt to be careful, a spy could never afford to let their guard down even for an instant. Midii was having more trouble than she liked to admit readjusting to the life of an indentured spy after having so many years of relative freedom. She hated the lies; she especially hated lying to Trowa. Against her will she had come to care for him, he had come to mean a lot to her and the thought of someday possibly having to hurt him in betrayal caused her heart to constrict and her breath to gasp out. She didn't want to betray him! She wanted to be his ally. She didn't want to have to guard her every word and action around him, she wanted to be his true partner.

In their short time together he had become as natural in her life as the air she breathed and just as necessary. She hated the thought that one day she would wake up and he wouldn't be part of her world. Every day, despite the painful divisiveness of the situation, she looked forward to seeing him. Even if his cool exterior never seemed to betray a flicker of emotion at most times she lived for the next instant he turned his face her way. She couldn't help it; her eyes followed him the way a sunflower was always turned toward the sun. Midii had never bothered feeling attracted to someone for she knew that one day she would be forced to either betray him or leave him, but in this instance there was no denying the call of her heart. Even though she knew damned well that she would have to both betray him and leave him she couldn't stop herself from wanting to be with him. She'd memorized the outline of his long, lanky form, the curve of his jaw, the sweeping fall of hair with reddish brown highlights, the way he moved with effortless silence and grace, the calm timbre of his voice. Each memory she stored away carefully like a treasure for the time she knew was coming when she would have to be without him. She both dreaded and looked forward to the next day and the day after, knowing it was both one more day she could be with him and one less day she had until she had to leave him. 

If only there were a way to make things right. There didn't seem to be a way she could both save her family and be with Trowa at the same time. The desire to protect her father and brothers was part of her; a part of her bones her blood and her very essence. She could not turn away from them. She had denied herself so much already for their sakes; she had sacrificed her childhood, her innocent heart and walked down the road the spy and the bounty hunter. She had given herself over to the Consortium and its dangers so she could feed them, shelter them, and keep them safe during the war. She had sacrificed everything willingly, because she protected them. Any cost was worth paying to keep her family safe. Even her own hearts desire, even her love for Trowa… her beloved Nanashi.

As ever, it seems that no matter what I try, my choices are limited and not what I would choose if I had the freedom to choose my ultimate destiny, she thought with wistful resignation as she opened the door to the building and steeled her impregnable mask into place for her meeting with Lady Une. 

* * *

Trowa had to admit that her private security system was challenging, especially for a cobbled-together system that had been built in only a matter of a few hours at most. She had spent most of her time at Preventors HQ or with him out on the missions. It was a challenge, even for a Gundam Pilot with his level of skill at infiltrating through security systems. Trowa was a little disgruntled by the thought that if she had been given more time and some better resources her security system would have been something he would not have been able to navigate without some heavy reconnaissance. 

It took him a full fifteen minutes to slip into her apartment then another five to wipe any trace amounts of evidence of tampering from the systems buffers and recorders. It was the work of a few minutes to make the necessary adjustments to the sweeping and jamming devices themselves, then another few minutes to set the security system to cover all trace of his retreat. When he was safely away from the apartment he signaled Lady Une and presumably she would have found a way to end the meeting gracefully without seeming rushed.

Trowa in the meantime entered an apartment building about a block and a half away and took the elevator to the top floor. He had discretely rented a small space within range of Midii and her equipment for just such a contingency and had it all nicely loaded up with very sensitive receivers and some sophisticated equipment that would make his job easier. One wall was nothing but a mess of monitor screens, plastic electronics boxes and wires interconnecting them all in crazy patterns that made all the sense of a plate of spaghetti. Hurriedly he switched on the electricity and booted up the various interconnected systems. He wouldn't have audio or visual, after seeing Midii's security system he was sure of that but that didn't mean Trowa wasn't good enough to jimmy his way into her own system. He'd at least be able to confirm when she entered her apartment. She'd likely take a half an hour at least to sweep the room thoroughly for bugs, then put her jammers into place, and then… show time.

It fell out pretty much as he'd planned it, he hacked into her personal security system using one of the feed lines that were universal for the kinds of devices she used betting that she wouldn't have had the time to add her own personal touches to it. She took a little longer than he'd expected to sweep the room, apparently she'd held off on that in order to take a shower and change into something more comfortable. The room was swept and Trowa was unsurprised yet relieved that the tampering had been pulled off to perfection. His signal was coming in loud and clear. The jammers were set up on all frequencies and it took an additional half hour For Midii to build to a range she was comfortable with, which was basically, maximum range and capacity. 

He could almost see her leaning forward in anticipation as she accessed the data pod and decrypted her files. Trowa checked the same motion in himself as his screen sprang to life. As he had hoped she would, Midii went straight for the main missions files and began decrypting so that she could see what the Consortiums big master plan was…

That's it?! Trowa thought when he read it. _That's_ their master plan?! That's what they're going through all this trouble for?!

He'd been expecting something more along the lines of eventual global domination, something involving massive fleets of mobile suits and a hostile take-over of the government. He'd been expecting something involving lofty ideals of showing the world that human nature could not be changed. That was all "old hat" apparently. 

The Consortium had developed an agenda to rid the Earth sphere of its peace. Said plot involved not only getting rid of certain inconvenient high ranking government officials, but also of founding different "terrorist groups" and networks all across the globe to mask their real activities and purposes. The terrorist groups were only the first part in their plan (Roswell and his heir were really a means of making their work a little easier, not a key part in their agenda). By creating the illusion of unrest they hoped to instill true unrest and uneasiness in the minds and hearts of the people. Once people started to doubt that true peace could actually hold, it would so much easier to make them all give in to their own fears and selfish desires. With a few key assassinations, not the least among them being that of Vice Minister Darlian, the whole structure would eventually collapse in on itself. What made Trowa really disgusted by all of this was the entire purpose behind the Consortiums agenda. They did not intend to take over the world, merely to reintroduce violence and war back into the Earth Sphere so that their _profits_ would go back up! The Consortium had kept their activities as a group of Arms dealers mostly covert even in times of war, the only one who really knew about them were the ones who needed to know.  When there had been a lot of wars and rebellions, the Consortium had made a lot of money supplying arms and weapons to not only the Alliance but to their enemies as well. But due to the peaceful atmosphere brought about by the Earth Sphere Unified Nation and all the open negotiations between Earth and Space the need for their unique services had all but died out. The only ones seeking their services now were the Space Pirates, who needed armaments in order to be able to rob the trade caravans traveling between colonies and between Space and Earth. All they wanted was their profit margins back!

Trowa was still shaking his head at that one when Midii signed out of that portion of the data pod. At least with Trieze, and to a lesser extent the Barton Foundation, there were some ideals involved; there was a purpose to having wars break out and people getting killed. This was just… greed. It was the most sickening thing he'd ever heard of. They were willing to ruin countless innocent people's lives; Midii's, her family's, his own, and Catherine's among them, just so that they could make money. Unforgivable. 

He watched as she signed out of the data pod, but noted with dismay that the jammers in her own apartment blocked out the sending frequency of the chip he'd installed into her personal computer! He'd adjusted them for the frequency of the chips on the pod, but not the one for the chips on her personal computer. Now he could no longer see what she was doing on her private console, which left him in the dark as to what her next move would be. Shit! He didn't even know what she was doing now, just the vague stuff he got via his connection to her personal security system which did not have internal visuals or audio, only motion sensors and vibration sensors and heat sensors. He knew only that she hadn't left her computer. Damn! She was likely doing something crucially important on her computer right now and he didn't know what she was up to. Which meant he didn't know her next move. He was at a severe tactical disadvantage now; he could venture a few guesses based on his previous observances of her; she was nothing if not thorough and meticulous so she was most likely investigating the movements of the Consortium and its agents right now in order to confirm what she had learned. She could also be checking to see what up coming assignments had been delivered to the Consortium operatives and checking those against this new information to see what kind of picture she was coming up with. However, he didn't know for sure and not knowing for certain at this stage in the game could well be crippling.

Trowa cleared his mind and clamped down on his rising unease. Just because the chips themselves were being jammed did not mean he was helpless at all. If she was accessing the net links; that was public domain… he could catch up to her there by bouncing a sympathetic frequency of his transmitting chips on the main streams of data, wich would resonate with her own thread burst that was out questing for whatever it was she was looking for. He wouldn't have complete recovery but he'd be able to track her progress vaguely, know what places she accessed and for how long. He could access those later to piece together exactly what she had done while on this crusade of hers. Knowing this made him feel better, and he set his system to begin sending out the sympathetic frequency while he made a report to Lady Une about what he had found. Such reports were usually something he preffered to do in person in a secure location but he was otherwise occupied with Midii Une. This being the case he had no intention of going into any detail at the moment on a channel that could be accessed and since all channels could be accessed one way or another he simply told her that the Preventors were about to be as busy as they had been since the eve wars and he'd make a full report at oh seven hundred. It was already oh-two-hundred and Midii was quite likely to keep him up all night with her inquisitiveness. Damn but he hated not being one step ahead of her, now he'd have to play catch up.

* * *

Midii logged off her computer with a weary feeling of satisfaction in a job well done. She looked over at her clock, it was three thirty in the morning and she should be able to catch a few hours of exhausted sleep before she had to get up to report to Headquarters. Her eyes were scratchy and burning from tired and she felt like she hadn't slept in days.

I just wish this were all over with, she thought wistfully. Trying to stay one step ahead of a powerful and ruthless organization that had taught her the tricks of being a spy in the first place was difficult enough, but when half of the people in that organization would kill her as soon as look at her and her family's life hung in the balance she was really beginning to feel the strain.  

Once, just once, I'd like to live a life with some semblance of normalacy. I'm not asking for much, a healthy family, a roof over their heads that won't fall apart ant any minute, and a steady supply of food with which to keep them fed would be enough to satisfy me. 

The weight of her recent findings over the course of the night was not sitting well with her. She'd found what she was looking for, but it put her in a bit of a quandary.  The next mission that Lady Une had assigned her was guard duty at a political fete in Brussels. Unfortunately, the Consortium planned to start moving on their big agenda at that very same gathering, ie they intended to get rid of some of the politicians that they would find most inconvenient to their cause. Their primary target was the Prime Minister of Foreign Affairs, Peter Jameson. Naturally the key figures in promoting peace and understanding between Earth and Space had to be the first to be eliminated. Vice Speaker for the ESUN Council was going to be there as well, as were half of the Council reps. 

The dilemma made her head hurt when she thought about it for too long. She'd been up for most of the night tracking down the mailed orders of each and every last one of the Consortium Agents involved. The agents of the Consortium were being moved into place. There were two different professional assassins waiting on stand-by in Luxembourg and a secure position in Belgium, a bomber was being shipped in from Metz, France, and several other agents were awaiting orders with regards to the night of the party, running interference and the like. The consortium was gathering its pieces together for a sudden strike on the heart of the Earth Sphere Council. 

Midii had received her orders for the night of the party from the Consortium earlier that evening via untraceable documents in her account, with self-deleted one minute after she received it. She was under strict orders to do nothing to stop them or get in the way of their plans and for good reason too; they would have only one real shot at this and if they didn't get most of their targets on that night, the rest of the targeted persons would be alerted and take extra precautions thus making the assassinations by the Consortium a lot harder. Midii's other orders included not only inaction at the moment of truth, but downloading the plans for the security measures of the Preventors and sending them to the Consortium to be worked around. In essence she was to be the spy they had "hired" her to be.

Midii looked at the dossiers she had copied from Smiths hard drive and correlated it to the orders that had been sent out. It appeared that Smith was currently debating between using a lone sniper for the elimination or rigging the place with a series of explosives. Her inner spy insisted on being a logician and trying to estimate his next move based on the information available. Both had their advantages and disadvantages. The explosives would be the most effective in getting rid of all of the unwanted individuals attending the event; however they stood a good chance of being discovered by the sweeps performed by the Preventors prior to the party. The sniper stood the best chance of making its way around the guards but likely would not be able to reach all of the targets before being either eliminated or apprehended. It was most likely that he would hire several snipers with specific targets to begin shooting all at once at a specific time. 

At least I have the list of targets, she thought wryly. It had taken her all night to get it, even with the information downloaded from Smiths personal computer. He hadn't been taking any chances; he'd divided up the list into sections and had each section on a different computer. With something this important there was no way he was putting all of his eggs in one basket. Furthermore he'd sent his agents only the information they needed to know, thus ensuring that no one save the top brass had all of the pieces. An ordinary Preventor or espionage agent would not have been able to locate all of the pieces in time because they would have needed to know the names and codenames of _all_ of the personnel involved. Something like that would take a member of long standing. Unfortunately for them, while Midii might have been inactive for such a long time she had been far from uninterested in their movements. The Consortium had unknowingly provided her with quite a few bounty-heads and she had found it neccessary to keep an eye on their actions purely in the interests of keeping well out of their power.

I'll try to think of a way to move around them tomorrow, I still have a few days ahead of me, she thought wearily as she climbed into bed and flicked out the lights. Right now she was really tired and wanted nothing more than to get some sleep.


	17. Morning and a Moment

Trowa firmly stifled his weariness and mechanically kept working away at it. He had moved his position from the flat near Midii's small one room apartment to a quiet computer room in the headquarters of the Preventors. He had made a full report to Lady Une earlier that morning just after Midii had finally signed off. Now he was busy trying to track down her electronic trail that he, due to his foolish lack of foresight had missed out on witnessing as it happened. He had spent the past four or five hours winkling out all of the various places she had visited and trying to catch up to what information she had found. He hadn't had any sleep at all that evening, but Trowa had gone without sleep for even several days at a stretch before so one night didn't make that huge a difference to his ability to function. He was however quite affected by his sluggishness at tracing her signal for her electronic research into the future plans of her employers. 

He wanted to know everything she knew by  the time she showed up to work that morning; but she had been all over everywhere on the net-links the night before and it was just taking him way too long to backtrack across all of her little sites, hack into them unobtrusively, decrypt them, then read and correlate the information. Midii was well-connected and she knew the inner workings of her forced employers like a French chef knew the inside of his kitchen; there was no way that any of the agents currently working for the Preventors, including himself or possibly even Heero, would have known precisely where to go, who to access, and what to look for when tracking down the Consortium and there would have been some serious gaps in their information even if they had been lucky enough to stumble across the plot to assassinate the leaders of the Unisphere Council. The thing that was frustrating Trowa was not only his stupid mistake in not adjusting the frequency of the bug on her private computer, but the fact that now he had to play catch-up. Playing catch-up with a professional was frustrating; she'd been very busy that night and he was having a hell of a time of it. It was now about seven in the morning and he'd gotten about a third of the way through her trail from the previous evening.  

Trowa was aware of the door opening and glanced up absently to see who it was; he was working on a rather high profile case right now and didn't want some nosy person disturbing his work. It was Heero, and even better he came bearing coffee. One of the covered metallic mugs that preserved heat was wafting with steam bearing the welcome scent of Columbian ground coffee beans. They only served the best there at Preventors HQ, rank did indeed have its privileges, and besides Lady Une was a known coffee addict. She had stated that she had enough agents working long, odd hours that if she didn't serve good coffee she'd probably be facing a mutiny… and she would likely be on the side of the mutineers. 

"Une assigned me here to assist you," he said by way of explanation. Neither Trowa nor Heero were ones for wasting words; Trowa accepted the coffee and the help with a nod of thanks as Heero slid into the terminal next to him. 

With another seasoned professional the work did indeed go quicker; and when they were done a scant two hours later at approximately eight in the morning they my silent mutual agreement decided to celebrate by drinking another cup of coffee. The faculty break room on that floor wasn't spectacular, it was mostly used by the office bunnies and coffee-walkers instead of field agent personnel, but it had the necessary requirements, couches, coffeepots and cappuccino machines. 

"Une suddenly made this fete a top priority this morning and now I can see why," Heero remarked quietly. They were the only two inhabitants of the room. "This would have been a disaster if she hadn't caught it, even I didn't see an operation of this magnitude coming and I'm always on guard when a collection of political targets and influential leaders are gathered in one place. I would very much love to know how you happened across those connections of yours."

"It's a long story… a very long story," said Trowa. "And it's not really the time or the place for it."

"Understood," said Heero not taking offense. Two lifetime soldiers knew that there was a time and a place for private tactical meetings, and a public breakroom on the cusp of morning rush-hour wasn't one of them. 

"Any luck with your reluctant charge?" Trowa inquired as a way to change the subject. The two of them weren't convivial, but they did like to discuss pertinent matters as much as anyone did. 

Heero scowled.

"No. She insists that my guard of her person isn't necessary as she hasn't had one single attack in years. She thinks the coast is clear," Heero's tone conveyed the obvious folly of that particular notion. 

"On a battlefield or in sniper work, the only real chance at nailing your target is when they think the coast is clear," Trowa said, agreeing with him.

"That was exactly what I told her, but she thinks that the time for battlefields and thinking like a soldier is over with. As much as I would love to agree with her, I work for the Preventors and I know better."

"She'll come around," Trowa assured him. "Even if this building doesn't get blown to high havens or any of the people in it shot, which it won't, you could still use the attempt to cement your case."

"So there is a good side to this mess after all," Heero said judiciously sipping his coffee. 

"I don't know if Lady Une told you, but even though you know something is happeneing that night you're to pretend that you don't know about it. The information goes no farther than yourself and you're not to indicate that you suspect anything out of the ordinary."

"I've been briefed," Heero said dryly. "But the way you said it makes it sound like you have a personal stake in it…" He trailed off, making it not quite a question.

"Let's just say that I want to see this business drawn to a good conclusion as much as you do."

Heero was content to leave it at that. That fact alone demonstrated that he had placed a large measure of trust in Trowa and his ability to handle matters. For a solitary soldier who had been trained to rely on himself alone to handle all emergencies to simply let a matter of some grave importance drop trusting in his compatriot to manage matters showed a great deal of trust.

"… Still think you're mistaken about those two," The slightly morning-cranky voice of Wufei drew near to the door as it opened to reveal him and his partner in the middle of a discussion on his way to the coffee room. 

"Hello? Where have you been?" Sally inquired looking at her partner as if he were this incredibly dense person who didn't have a clue. "Everyone in both OZ and the Alliance knows about Zechs Merquise and Lieutenant Noin; it was only a matter of time."

"He said himself that he couldn't become accustomed to peace," Wufei argued. "Why would he give in so suddenly?"

"You make it sound like she's been importuning him at every other moment with requests to settle down and start a family," Sally said nodding a good morning to Trowa and Heero as she poured her coffee. She had a folder, likely with her latest mission report in it, cradled in the crook of her left arm as she held her steaming mug in her right. 

"Are you saying that she hasn't?" Wufei asked archly (for him anyway). He took the pot from her and poured his own mug full as she added cream and three spoons of sugar to hers. "Given her obsessive pursuit of him at the end of the wars, that would be the likely conclusion to come to Sally."

Well I'll have you know that she's been very restrained," Sally said righteously. "There is such a thing as a biological clock Wufei, maybe Zechs just felt it was time to make his "understanding" with his childhood sweetheart a little more permanent. Well, the fact that three other guys had made it clear that if he wasn't interested, they sure as hell were, could have had something to do with it."

"Humph, I suppose jealousy can do strange things to a man," Wufei grumbled.

"So the idiot finally had one good idea," Midii's voice said from behind them. "And it's about fragging time too."

"That's what I said," Sally said nodding emphatically. 

"She's had the patience of a saint with him. I don't know if I'd have stuck around after my boyfriend was declared legally dead," Midii joked. "Good morning Trowa."

"Good morning," he said in his restrained manner. 

"It's said that Buddha could forgive only three times, and I know he's used up at least two," Sally continued.

"I think trying to drop a space fortress onto the Earth should count as two," Midii argued. "What do you think he did for all of that year he was missing?"

"Hair care treatments?" Sally suggested impishly. 

"Either that or trying to come up with a cool new name for his big comeback," Midii deadpanned, her eyes sparkling with repressed mirth. "I swear, he changes his name more often than his underwear."

"And how would you know that?" Sally inquired archly, grinning.

"We're not even going any where _near_ there," Middi said, pantomiming dropping it like a bad habit. "He's scary." 

With that she took her cup of coffee and left the break room with a wave at the assembled company. Trowa silently followed her out. Heero was left staring after his normally anti-social compatriot with a look of speculation, Sally too looked like she was speculating; she was grinning.

"What is it that makes you smile so, this early in the morning?" Wufei grumped. 

"It looks like love is in the air," was all Sally said as she sipped from her coffee and turned her attention back to the reports stacked in her arms.

* * *

Midii felt like she'd barely gotten any sleep at all the previous night. Her head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, she felt disconnected, as if she were watching all of the world from a security monitoring room somewhere outside of her body. After all of this was over, a long break and some time to relax with her family was definitely in order. Provided she could get her family out of this, but she couldn't even afford to drop her guard for a moment. She just wished she could talk to someone, she trusted Trowa, she really did; she loved him and it hurt her not to be able to be honest and straightforward with him. 

I wish I could tell him everything, she thought whistfully. But what if he doesn't understand? What if he thinks I'm betraying him all over again? I can't take the risk, if I get him involved in this he'll get hurt. It will be better for everyone if I just continue carrying my burdens alone. She could hear his quiet footsteps fall behind her, she wanted nothing more at that moment than to just pause, lean back and let herself fall into his arms. She had always had to be the strong one in her family, the Protector, the Provider… She'd grown up depending on no one but herself, just once she'd like to be the one that someone protected, she'd like to have someone take care of her for a little while. She'd give a lot just to feel truly safe, truly cherished, just for a little while. If she could just afford to trust him…

But she couldn't. The situation was too dangerous, and she was already in too deep. Now was not the time for weakness, she had to be strong, she had to be ready to do what she had to. It wouldn't be easy but she had to be ready to cut all ties to the man she loved and disappear. Everything had been moving so fast, and it was continuing to move fast; she was just going to have to make certain she was faster. She couldn't afford to let her guard down, especially not around him. Those beautiful eyes of his always felt like they saw straight through all of her defenses and into the places she would preffer to keep hidden; her vulnerability, her worry and fear, her doubts about herself, her guilt. He could only imagine what he would think of her if he found out she had been forcibly hired by the Consortium to infiltrate the Preventors and send back data on their movements; that she had in essence put the safety of her family over the peace of the entire Earth Sphere. If allowed to spin out of control the Consortium could conceivably be a real threat to peace worldwide as well as up in space. She just had to figure out a way to nail them before things got truly unwieldy.

She'd be able to plan ahead about how to do just that if she could only find a little time to herself. All this walking around being constantly guarded was wearying to say the least. Nanashi had been tough to fool when he'd been a kid, and time had only increased his powers of observation. That was one of the reasons why she loved him so, and also one of the reasons why she feared him the most out of anyone. He meant so much to her, and she was sent to betray him again. Fate certainly seemed to have it out for her… perhaps it was kharma for all of the people who had died because of her; she would always be set against the one man she truly loved. She hadn't wanted to do it then and she didn't want to do it now.

But now I'm older, she thought with some hope. I don't have to repeat the same mistakes. I can figure out a way to make this work, I'm smarter and I have more experience. Even if I am just as desperate I think I can make this work. It doesn't matter what he thinks of me, as long as I know he's safe, and my family is okay, that'll be enough.

Midii had been so involved with her own thoughts and troubles that she failed to look at the floor she was walking on an the heel of her stiletto shod foot turned on an irregularity in the linoleum. She momentarily weaved and caught herself against the wall before quickly righting herself.

"Miss Une," he said softly from just behind her. "Are you alright Miss Une?" He had her at the elbow. How often had she wished for someone to catch her when she fell? Life as a spy wasn't something that came with safety nets, it was dangerous and precarious, a dance along the razors edge between life and death. 

She couldn't help it, she couldn't resist it. He was standing there so close to her; and he looked so steady, so strong, that she needed to feel that strength supporting her for just one tiny heartbeat. For just one moment Midii gave in to her own weakness and let herself fall back against him. Her slight weight was caught against his hard muscled chest and his arms automatically held and supported her. 

So this is what happiness is like, she thought as she closed her eyes to let the world disappear for one brief moment before she had to pull away and stand on her own in the cold again. She felt so warm, so safe there. The world with all of its intrigues and machinations, with all of the life and death stuff she was involved in just melted away as she closed her eyes, rested her head against his shoulder, and let him support her. 

Then the moment passed and she reluctantly pulled away.

"I'm fine, I just didn't sleep very well last night," she explained. "It's nothing you need to worry about." With that she firmly marched herself down the hall and into the space she was currently using as an impromptu office for her trial period.

Trowa stared after her for a long moment wondering silently what that had all been about. It seemed that living her life on the edge was beginning to wear her down. Part of him missed the warmth of her soft frame melted against his own fiercely, even though it had only been for a few brief seconds.


	18. Research and Reports

* * *

Midii brought herself firmly back under her own control in the safety of her own solitary little cubicle by working away at the small little nothing that Lady Une had given her to do the previous night. It was just basic prep work for the next assignment she would be sent on, researching the blueprints for the floor plans and vent system layouts for the building where the fete would be held, background checks on security personnel, familiarization with the security system installed. Midii could do work like that in her sleep. Under the guise of industriously double checking the information for veracity before she looked it over Midii contemplated her enemies, her allies, and her next move.

Things are moving quickly, I need to think so that I can act. The best thing for her to do and do quickly would be to remove their primary targets from the guest list. Not enough to make the Consortium suspicious of her possible involvement, but certainly enough to cut down on the number of sitting ducks. The Vice-Speaker was a definite, as was the Foreign Minister, Jameson. She could pick up some virulent spray or darts and hit her targets one by one, a cold here, a fever there, an attack of e.coli… Nothing serious, just enough to keep them out of business and out of her way for a while. She could take out a few of the ESUN Council reps too, she'd have to be careful to only pick ones from a few of the different Consortium target lists to keep Smith from suspecting a planned attack. It wouldn't do for him to catch on to her because she picked all the targets from only the list that he had supplied her. Only the top brass of the Consortium had all of the targets in mind and to try fingering one of them would unravel the entire system. 

Hmmmm, an interesting notion, she thought with a new consideration. I wonder what happen precisely if I threw that particular stone in their pond. It would be very beneficial to sew some chaos within their own ranks, keep them too busy arguing amongst themselves to pay attention to me as I set them up or at the very least it will buy me some time… And I think I know just the way to do it. They hired me to be a spy and infiltrate the Preventors to gather information for them; it would not be entirely out of the realm of possibility that I would accidentally stumble upon such a discovery in the course of my work. It would not do however for me to look too eager, I am supposed to be working for the grudgingly and if I handed them this information too eagerly it would look suspect and my family would be in even more trouble. I am working on a bit of a stilted time table however, well. She paused to consider ways and means. First, she had to find the perfect target to use for her ploy, then she had to find a way to make or use incriminating evidence against him. 

I suppose I could use my own actions in taking the targets out of bounds as a sort of evidence. But that leaves out the why as to why I would suddenly turn against him. She paused. Her family. I could say this mystery higher-up approached me with a deal; if I would do something for him, perhaps run interference or relay messages even cover his tracks or something of that nature for him, he would protect my family in exchange. It's plausible; everyone knows how I am when my family gets involved, desperate enough to do anything for them. I could say that he turned on me with the intention of… well gee, what motive could he possibly have? She paused to consider it, then abruptly switched tracks.

Nevermind that for now. I have the most important members of the fete out of the way, or I will if I can get enough time and access to them; what about the rest of the members? I can't just leave them there to get shot at. I've had my hands tied by the Consortium so I can't protect them directly. My best chance of winning this one is to make all the preparations I can. Hm, the Consortium has a lot riding on this one night; this is the night where they launch their big campaign. I can use this to my advantage. They'll have all of their attention focused on this event; that means that their guard on their other holdings, such as manned bases and contact points will be lessened. If I can just find a way to sow enough chaos in a single night that will cripple them I _know_ I'd be able to take out at least a couple of their bases remotely. There are still a few Alliance weapons bunkers lying around that the Preventors haven't discovered yet and I know just how to get into them. The question is, how do I cripple them? What can I do that would affect every single base and operation that the Consortium owns at the same time?

Midii felt her headache returning. Maybe it was all too much for one person to handle alone. One person against the entire mustered might of the Consortium? Perhaps she has lost her mind somewhere along the way and just hadn't noticed until now. Maybe she should just give in, tell Une about the Consortium and hope she was a merciful woman. But Midi dismissed that notion the very moment it crossed her mind. She had come too far by now to hope for forgiveness or understanding; she was in too deep. The only choice she had now was to ride it out and pray she was as good as she needed to be. She just needed to calm down and think for a minute. She knew there had to be a way.

She needed something, something that would throw an enormous wrench in their gears, something that would affect all of their bases at the same time. Midii absently looked around her office, picked up a music file case and checked her hair and make-up. She was fidgeting and she knew it; maybe if she let her mind go fallow long enough she'd just intuit an answer to all of her problems. Oh, darn, her lipstick had smudged. She continued holding up the dark shiny case she was using as an impromptu mirror as she fished her lip gloss out of her desk drawer; she wasn't even really registering what case it was… some new group, probably alternative. Out of curiousity she let her eyes focus in on the cover.

Virus.

The reflection of Midii's face cracked open into a wide grin as a tremendous smile worked its pleased way across her face. She had her answer. 

A virus. Of course! I have access to the codes for a good part of the system from the downloaded version of Smiths hard drive, I have access to a lot of their high traffic areas, especially the high security ones. I know which places need to be hit and hit hard, I can access all of their hidden data stream bursts. The Consortium relies heavily upon its telecommunications to continue functioning. If I knocked that over and timed it with a simultaneous strike, I could take out half of their bases singlehandedly I'll bet! The problem with trying to take down their whole organization is two fold, one creating such a massive virus that would only infect target areas and systems would take time, I'd need to program the self adapting kind so that none of their own specialists could contain it immediately. Plus, even though such a massive blow to the com system would cripple them for a few days, and taking out some of their bases would slow them down, they'd eventually get on their feet and then they'd figure out who did it and they'd hunt me down. Plus there's my family to consider, total black-out of their communications would mean that the guards would be out of touch with headquarters for a while. They wouldn't be able to call for back up so that would be the only time I could rescue them.

She needed to get some biological viruses, mild ones, to infect the Vice Speaker, The Foreign Minister and the targets she was about to pick out, then she had to do reconnaissance on all of their homes and security systems so that she could break into them and infect the people she'd picked out. She needed to pick out the Consortium bases she was going to hit and have them targeted for remote missiles from some of the abandoned Alliance Missile bases. She needed to find a target in the top brass of the Consortium and set him up with some incriminating evidence. She needed to get this computer virus of hers cooked up to create the necessary distraction so she could destroy or at least cripple her enemy. And last but certainly not least, she needed to rescue her family from the danger it was in. That was quite a To Do list.

And I only have three days to do all of this! I need to get moving!

The computer virus would be easy to take care of; she'd just call in a favor from an old associate of hers. The man was a hacker genius named X12 (said "cross twelve"), he'd taught her everything she knew about computers. He never could resist a good challenge. Midii hauled out her private console and logged on to the virtual bar he and a few of his cohorts tended to frequent; she'd set up a meeting for tonight and have him get started on her super-virus, he owed her a favor or two and it was time she collected. She didn't really want to get seriously into her other job while she was inside the Preventors office, she wasn't certain her location was secure and unmonitored and getting careless and getting caught were two things that were not on her agenda for the morning. It was a start at least, the rest would have to wait until she got home tonight. Maybe she should try to manufacture an excuse to take the next two days off because all of this was going to take every spare minute she had, even with the delegating of the virus into more capable hands.

Well manufacturing a family emergency wouldn't be too much of a stretch, she thought ironically. She hacked into the backdoor of the medical office where her father took his treatments, logged on as the good doctor, and sent out a note to his loving daughter that she needed to come home immediately. It was a start; now, she just had to get everything else ready.

* * *

"X12, I wonder who that guy is," Une mused aloud. Trowa had reestablished his link to Midii's personal laptop and was observing her along with his nominal employer.

"A hacker," Heero supplied. He had been let in on their little conspiracy of light by Une shortly after Midii had closeted herself away in her cubicle. "One of note, he crashed one thousand seven hundred and eight systems in a single hour back in 179 and he'd only been about seventeen at the time. His specialty is computer viruses and security systems infiltration. A worthy opponent."

"She's setting up a meeting, I wonder what she wants with him," Une said curiously. "We could always find out. Heero, if you would, go find this X12 and keep tabs on him. I don't know for certain what Miss Midii Une is planning and any information we can get about her next movements will be helpful. Trowa, fix her apartment; I don't want to get jammed while she's moving online."

"Already done," the tall man assured her.

"Hn, looks like she's faking a sick note," Heero observed. 

"She probably intends to be very busy," Une said. "Looks like the hacker and her plans for him are only the tip of the iceburg. Alright, Barton, I'm going to let her go home. Your mission is to keep tabs on all of her movements, real life and online, and keep me posted. I want to know everything she does and why she does it. I'll find a way to move some of my own people into convenient places for when the action starts. With any luck we'll see this to a good conclusion."

* * *

Next time on Along the Razors Edge: In which a to-do list is written, homework is done and an on-going report is made. Look forward to it please!


	19. Security and the Silencer

Trowa watched from the rooftop of the apartment across the street from Midii's own apartment as she parked her motorcycle on the curb outside her apartment and dismounted. She looked a little small standing next to it, but with her black leather jacket, unbound blonde hair, tight-fitted jeans, black combat boots, and sunglasses she looked… sexy. Without his meaning them to his thoughts drifted back to that eternal moment earlier that morning when she had leaned against him. He'd felt all of the strength and energy just drain out of her for a single instant, he'd reached up to lend his support but before he could try to get her to talk to him she'd pulled away and just kept walking. 

Trowa still wasn't sanguine about he and Une having all of the pieces to the puzzle. For one thing, they still weren't certain precisely what she was planning; only that she was planning something that involved a computer hacker, a bunch of Consortium assassins that were going to be at the party, and a list of targets the Consortium had picked out. They didn't know how all of the pieces fit together nor did they know if they had all off the pieces. Now was not the time to allow his thought to wnader into trivial and possibly dangerous territory outside of the parameters set by the mission. If he allowed the train of thought to continue he might just jeopardize the mission and with the stakes they were playing with there was no room for error.

He brought up visual inside her apartment and watched as she walked in the door, flicked on the lights, and gave the place of residence a habitual once over to ensure that everything was exactly as she had left it. Afterwards she set her keys and her purse down on the kitchen counter on her way to the fridge to grab a cold drink. The unstrapped her personal laptop from the leather carrier she kept it in and set it up on her low coffee table then went into the bathroom while she waited for it to finish powering up and going through the various security protocols she had programmed into it. There was very little chance of anyone compromising Midii's careful internal security, but Trowa had always been a man to beat the odds. 

Careful, he cautioned himself. You're bordering on hubris. Midii's a smart woman; it's not entirely skill that's let you observe her without being detected for so long, there have been more than a few lucky breaks along the way. With that in mind he continued his silent observation of his charge. A few minutes later the sensors picked up an increase in heat and he saw steam curl out from the crack in the bathroom door. She was showering then. She couldn't possibly get into any mischief while in the shower. Then again, he really wouldn't put it past her. A very tiny, desperately repressed corner of his psyche whispered of what kind of trouble he could get into in the shower with her. He quickly squealched it. Really, she leans against him for one moment and he looses it. How unprofessional.

She emerged a few minutes later in a cloud of steam, with a short bath towel wrapped around her torso revealing cleavage, hips, long shapely legs and barely covering her assets. Trowa quietly swallowed. 

Resist all temptation! he quickly reminded himself. ((A.N. My favorite line from Miroku on Inu Yasha, also a nod to voice actor Kirby Morrow, couldn't resist.))

She emerged from her sleeping quarters a few moments later dressed down in soft loose pants in caramel offset by a loose caftan top in satin rose. Her feet were bare and her hair was wet and unstyled; she wore no artful make-up or jewelry of any kind. Midii looked young; closer to her real age of around twenty, and as she sat down at her laptop she looked like nothing more than an average collage student settling in for a long night of study or typing away at a paper rather than an experienced espionage agent setting up for a major debacle.

Midii hauled out a notebook as Trowa switched views on her surveilence system to see what she wrote. To Do; then underlined it and put a number on the first line down. She was making out a to-do list! The incongruity of such a simple mundane thing being used for something that was not so simple and hardly mundane was not lost on him. Her list was cryptic, but hardly your average list for grocery shopping, a lot of it was in code naturally. She placed a question mark by the last item on her list; Trowa zoomed in so he could see it better… "Notify Preventors?"

Midii set aside her list and turned her attention to her laptop. She started out by hacking on line instead of logging on with a regular account. It was illegal but the best way to ensure her account was never traced back to her. The fisrt place Midii went to was the systems data base for the nearby Ellison Pharmaceuticals… Odd, why would she be looking at a pharmaceutical company? Another backdoor into Consortium territory? Something for her father? She accessed the restricted section, the place where they stored information about their more dangerous stock such as bacteria and virus samples. She scrolled down through the list of samples then clicked on three strains of e. coli, two for a cold, three strains of pneumonia and two lesser forms of stomach flu. All of them harmless, all of them easy to get over naturally, all of them about to go missing from Ellison Pharmacy very shortly. To be precise they were already off the lists in the computer and would likely be lifted from the research and development department later on that night. Midii backed out of the computer for the pharmaceutical company, carefully covering her tracks, then checked off an item on her list. 

Trowa continued to monitor Midii's online activity as he placed a call in to Lady Une.

"She's accessed Ellison Phamaceutical and intends to steal several harmless strains of their testing viruses, colds, flues and stomach viruses to be exact," he reported. 

"She's stealing biological viruses?" Une inquired, a note of unease creeping into her voice. "Is it your opinion that she intends to create a biological weapon?"

"No. If such a weapon was what she was interested in creating there are easier ways to aquire it. There are still several rogue scientists out there such as the man she brought in (insert name here) that would be willing to create such a weapon. Besides, the strains of the viruses she stole are all mostly harmless; certainly an inconveinience but nothing that will kill anyone even if left untreated."

"What do you think she means in stealing them then?" Une said in puzzlement. 

"It may have something to do with this list she appears to be compiling," Trowa said not taking his eyes from the screen he was watching. The data she was accessing scrolled across the flat screen of his monitor even as he talked on a secured line with Une. 

"List, Barton?" Une said in a tone that clearly indicated that more explanation was required.

"She's just started moving on her next parameters," he said by way of explanation. "It takes a minute to fathom out the direction she's heading in. She's just hacked into Preventors Archive database disguised as one of those moles she got rid of earlier. Apparently they had more free access to our system than we had originally granted them, oh wait, no they didn't; she is working on her own. She's begun to access the profiles on the political guests attending the function coming up. The Vice Speaker, the Prime Minister of Foreign Affairs, Council Representatives, Commissioners of the Trade Alliance, influential members of the Romafeller Foundation… she's going through their profiles."

"Heero's not going to like this one bit," Une said in amusement. "That's his precious baby she messing around with, she may have just made an enemy for life."

"Hm," Trowa grunted non-comitially, already too engrossed on what was happening on the screen to pay attention. "I'll call you again when there is more to report."

"Roger. Out."

Fifty-two files were quickly accessed, scrolled through at a speed-reading rate, then closed. Of those fifty-two ten names and files were downloaded. She had some unknown criteria for her selections. Midii again carefully backed out, covering her tracks, and signed off the account she was using. Trowa made a note of the names even as Midii flipped a page in her note book and wrote them down in a list. The first was Sergio Browonski, the Vice Speaker of the Earth Sphear Unified Nation Council Board. The second, Paul Jameson, the Prime Minister of Foreign Affairs. He was followed by Pietor Ivanovitch, the Council Representative for Eurasia, then by Hajime Kuramori, the Trade Commissioner. Next was Masaad ibn Jaseem the Council Representative for the Lagrange Point Four cluster colonies 12247 through 66734, and next came Mai-ju Fa the Council Representative for Lagrange Point Five cluster colonies 10116 through 44879. The last four names on her list were a Rabbi Yossel Kurtzviel, an influential man in his own right, Johnathan Harrison the Council Representative from Lagrange Point Colony Cluster Two, Kaati Alim Council representative of South America and Materu Senti, Council Representative of South Africa. 

Midii checked her watch then accessed the copied harddrive of Smith's computer on her own data pod and began compiling information; security access codes, check points, database parameters, systems configurations, security architecture, main lines of communications, signal codes, satellite feeds… everything she would need to design a massive electronic strike on the Consortiums information and communications hub. She intended to skewer the heart.

"X12 is a hacker, one of note who specializes in designing viruses that crash systems," Trowa murmured as she rapidly assembled the data onto a spare data pod. "With the information Midii has and has been able to gather about the inner workings of the Consortium we can see that the group acts like most other syndicates or rebel cells; there are a few in the top brass that organsize everything and the members below who take orders from them are given their instructions via image meetings from the strongholds of power they rest in. The rest of the Consortium is separated into a variety of cells, each with a leader and several underlings. Most of the cells don't know the names or faces of the other members outside their own cell. If she were to hire this man to perform his specialty by taking out all of their communications and crashing all of their systems she could do anything she wanted without them ever even knowing; hell… if she wanted to she could make a coup de etat on the Consortium itself! All she'd have to do would be to infiltrate the main Consortium base, kill off all of the leaders, create dummy images in their place and get rid of the underlings in the name of increased security. The disparate elements that comprise the organism Consortium would no longer be able to communicate with one another and there wouldn't be a way to prove the veracity of the identities of the fake Consortium heads without their inner circle around."

He once again picked up his cell phone. 

"Lady Une… I think I know what she intends to do with the hacker X12…"

* * *


	20. Breaking In and Breaking Wind

"Hello old friend," Midii typed into the glowing blue box in a very highly secured deep dank corner of cyberspace. The meeting was taking place in a area of the turf that X12 had created for himself, sort of a business office for the hacker to conduct his affairs with minimal risk to his own security. ((A.N. It's the obligatory Babylon 5 reference; I have one in all of my fics.))

"Midii," the electronic caricature that X12 used as his working persona said in its synthesized male/female voice. There were a very few select people who really knew who X12 was, most of the rest couldn't tell you how old the hacker was or even whether he was even male or female (calling X12 "he" was simply for convenience). As a hacker of note, X12 was paranoid about security; his own to be precise, there were a lot of people in the law abiding authorities that would like to know who he was and what he could be nailed for.

"X12, it's been quite a while."

"It has. I assume you didn't get a hold of me just to chat with you; what is it that you need."

"I'm here to collect a favor." She replied.

"A favor? I do owe you a couple… what do you need and I'll tell you if I can help you or not."

"You're being cautious all of a sudden, what's with the shields X?"

"I'm not sure, but I think someone has taken a sudden interest in me… more than usual that is. Are you involved in something that could get me killed?"

"No more than usual; well that's not precisely true… I need you to do something for me and it's something only you can do. I'm sending you a pod-full of data and it's hot… volcanic even. You'll get the specifications along with the data in the file read/sodapop.txt. You have precisely sixty hours from the time you download the file in which to complete the task. But don't worry, it's work I'm sure you'll enjoy; you never could resist a worthy challenge."

"Right. After this we're even."

"Yes. After this, just make sure you get it done on time."

With that he signed off and Midii stretched out into a jaw-popping yawn. She'd been sitting in front of her screen for hours, the firey sunset had long since faded into dusk, then twilight and finnaly nightfall. The moon had risen over the horizon about two hours ago and had shrunk into the marble sized orb now in habiting the sky at the position ten o clock.

"No rest for the wicked," she murmured to herself. "Now to find my fall guy; or would that be too much trouble? I already have so much on my plate already, I'm not sure if I can get all the things I need to get done accomplished and have time to set up the top brass as well. Then again, a spy can never have too many back-up plans. I'll just compile a list of likely prospects and worry about it later."

Midii didn't take the time to think about how lucky it was for her that she was a former bounty hunter, all of the skills that had kept her alive and prosperous in her former profession were serving her well with a vengeance now. It was not at all uncommon for rival members of the top brass of the Consortium to post one anothers names anonymously on the Lists for bounty hunter hits. The less top brass there were, the larger the shares of wealth there were to go around. The location of their stronghold was unknown of course; not even Smith knew for certain where it was hidden. The likelihood of Midii finding where they all were was approximately slim to none. All that Midii could get would be some names but that would be enough to suit her purposes. Once she had a likely candidate all she would have to do would be to build up a plausible scenario and fake up some evidence. Even if she never played it, it would be a good thing to have an ace up her sleeve.

Sorting through the Lists was second nature to her, and even if she hadn't done any Hits for the past month she fell into familiar old habits with the ease of long practice. Although it was a task she could probably do in her sleep it still took a few hours for Midii to find what she was looking for, and another hour after that to sort through the list of likely prospects; discarding this candidate for not being a member of the top brass or that candidate for being completely unsuitable. At last she had her man; Tyrone Aerinson. He was a member of the top circle; young, canny, ambitious… he'd killed his predecessor for his position and was known to be a bit of a wild card. He would do nicely. And perhaps if she had the chance she'd stop by and relieve him of his troublesome head; he had been on the Lists for several years and his price was a fat one.

"Lessee here," she though as her fingers worked over the keypad at a furious pace, quickly assembling the incriminating evidence of mister Aerinson's betrayal. She was still enough a part of that world to understand all of its machinations. Innuendo wasn't really all that difficult to work with. Perhaps such things were the easisest weapons for a spy, spies were trained to look for opportunities where a word or an action or gesture could arouse suspicions, were trained to create just the right amount of truth sandwiched in between all of the lies to create the illusion of truth and cause someone to question themselves, to question others around them. She well knew that once the suspicion was aroused it was very difficult indeed to make it quiet, and in the right kind of person… Othello anyone?

She checked another item off from her list, got up for a good long full body stretch then began stretches in earnest to limber up for her next task. She still had yet to break into Ellison Pharmaceutical and remove the strains of virus that she had deleted from the computer earlier. It was about two in the morning, the perfect time for a little late-night roof walk. That little bit of theft and running reconnaissance on five of her target homes would she do before she called it a done task and headed to bed. She could sleep in late tomorrow after all before she got to the running of the rest of her reconnaissance. If she was really lucky, she could manage to slip in the virus to her intended targets in the same trip she intended as reconnaissance thus saving the need for a return trip. On the other hand, if she didn't do her homework first she stood the chance of getting caught and that wasn't really a risk she was prepped to take at that moment.

I think I had a lot less to do when I was merely a bounty hunter, she thought a little sourly. She'd never thought she'd look back on those days with any kind of nostalgia!

Trowa made his report to Une and they speculated about precisely what she intended to do with the list of names from the bounty hunter Lists; she really only seemed interested in one of them but the unexpected luck of having so many names of the ringleaders of the Consortium dropped into her lap was one gift horse Une wasn't going to complain about. They spent a few minutes speculating over Midii's plans over the line.

"You believe she intends to settle the score with the Consortium by going after the ringleaders?" Une surmised after he'd finished with his report.

"Her past behavior suggests that if she's looking on the lists, she hunting for bounty heads. It only makes sense considering the nature of her extorted service to the Consortium that she would want some form of revenge. I don't think she's one to take an insult and indignity like the one she's been dealt by them lightly. What I am uncertain of was that disk she took her time compiling and how the information she gathered figures in to her over all plot. Not all of the information she gave was factual and most of it was completely out of context. The Preventors does not have a "Project Alpha" and up until now has shown little interest in their internal affairs. The information she has gathered, and the way she has sequenced the order of it, would seem to suggest that they have had a hand in the Preventors' recent run of good luck."

"It appears our clever little spy has plans to create herself a fall guy," Une said with some amusement. "If, no, _when_ this thing falls through, those boys of the Consortium are going to be looking for someone to take the heat… it looks like she's ready and willing to provide them with a target for their anger."

"Hm, yes. And if they're busy squabbling among themselves they're too busy to note her own actions," Trowa said with equal dryness.

"I like the way her mind works," Une said with true amusement. "I just wish I knew her whole plan. I'd hate to be blind sided with a surprise from that one. With this many people tap dancing around one another it would be easy for people to get their toes stepped on."

"If I may ask, why do you then let her continue to make moves on the game board? Why not simply bring her in, rescue her family, and have the Preventors continue her operation?"

"Midii Une is a rogue element, and right now we need her precisely as she is. Because she is still in training, officially she is not a Preventors employee and cannot in her current state be subjected to Preventors regulations. She is able to do things we by law are not allowed to do, she doesn't need to consider Procedural Due Process or warrants or mandates. In essence she has carte blanche to go in there and do whatever she has to do, overtly or covertly, to get the job done. The Preventors have to have this and that to pass through the sieve of due process before we're allowed to take strenuous action. As bad as it sounds, right now we need her exactly as she is, doing exactly what she is doing."

"Plausible deniability," Trowa stated flatly. "You're allowing her to act on her own so that just in case she is caught in a bad situation the Preventors can disavow all knowledge of her involvement with the Consortium and the plans we're now allowing her to get away with."

"It's the most expedient route," Une concurred.

Trowa restrained himself from making the unusually snappy remark that he thought Une just wanted Midii to do all of her work for her. The Lady was correct when she said it was expedient, Trowa could think of a more expedient way of stopping these events from unfolding.

"Why not simply cancel the fete? The Consortium would not be able to make its attacks in the first place if it had no event to interrupt."

"Twofold. One, we need the even to go through as planned because we need them to attack. We won't be able to justify the full scale bust I plan on holding shortly after the festivities unless we can show solid, concrete and indisputable proof that our actions have their reasons. Two, if we canceled the fete the Consortium would know we were on to them and would go to ground for a while, we might never flush them out if that happened and even if we kept Midii in her quasi-position on staff for observation they would eventually either grow tired of her lack of progress and terminate her or find a new way to use her. At least with matters the way they are we know mostly what she's up to, and what the Consortium has planned."

"Good points," he said. "She's changed into night-ops attire, I believe she plans to run her raid on Ellison Pharmaceutical next."

"Do you intend to follow?" Une inquired.

"Not right away. It's two in the morning and traffic is all but non-existent right now. She'd know right away if she was being tailed. I know where she intends to be, I'll catch up with her there. Hopefully she plans to call it a night after this escapade, how much longer can she continue with any level of alertness? She may get careless."

"If she does it's your job to see that she doesn't get caught."

"Rodger that. Out."

Trowa watched from his perch as Midii, wearing her old and familiar Shadowblade gear slipped out of her now darkened apartment and mounted her Kawasaki bike; speeding off into the night on a very quiet engine. Sure enough, she was headed in the direction of Ellison Pharmaceuticals.

It was a blocky three storied building the top two levels were cubic in shape the first floor was more rectangular. The first floor was the general pharmaceutical goods store, glass window wall full of advertisements, shelf upon shelf of over the counter drugs and general nutrition quack medicine. She cased the place from a distance, it had the usual business place weaknesses, windows that were easy to get in to, locks that could be easily picked… they'd even left partial lighting on for her. How very hospitable of them. No doubt they had security cameras casing the entire interior of the first story. Because of it's layout with the first story being slightly larger than the top two stories and the small flat roof having air conditioning and ventilation ducts access they had practically rolled out the welcome mat for her. She could do a job like this in her sleep.

I may wind up having to be able to, I'm still pretty tired. Maybe I'll stop in and pick up some caffeine pills while I'm here. The next few days are going to be real doozies for me and I'll need to be alert.

She took out her pen light located the external switch box. After jimmying it open she read the list of power connections and switched off a select few. The lights were still on but she was unobserved. Crappy security layout for this place, really pathetic. Midii felt almost insulted by having to perform such a cakewalk.

Don't get cocky, stupid! she warned herself. Just because this is ameture work doesn't mean you can't still get caught! With that admonition in mind she quietly scaled the fire escape, then glanced around from her vantage point to look for possible watchers. It was an upscale neighborhood but one never knew. Ascertaining that she was unobserved, Midii continued her task; loosening the nails holding the grate over the vent shaft she soundlessly popped the grate out and slid into the cramped metal tunnels. You'd think that designers would realize that vent shaft large enough to fit human beings were a big security risk, but in the interests of being cost effective (or at least perpetuating the movie myths) they continued to build them that way because that ventilation system style was cost effective for heating and cooling a building like this.

Using quiet suction cups on her hands she slid herself along the ducts on her belly so as not to make any noise. It wasn't long before she came upon a vent. She peered out through the cracks, and after making certain that the room was unoccupied, quietly pushed it out and dropped to the floor, landing lightly and noiselessly on her feet, then crouching low and looking around. The security cameras were off, but if there was even a guard patrolling the place she wouldn't have long. She ducked behind the nearest cover and wondered at her next option. She had walked into this one blind, she didn't know where the Lab was or where they stored their frozen viruses. It had been rather vain and stupid of her and it was likely going to get her caught. It was obvious that the lab wasn't on the first floor however; the back was all stock room and the front was the store. That left the top two stories as it was unlikely that this building had a basement… wrong area for a basement, none of the other buildings had one. For some reason, they just didn't build basements in this part of the country. So that left the second and third stories.

I could crawl back into the vent and take my chances that I'll find the duct that will take me where I want to go, or I could try the stairs. The problem with using the stairs however was that if there were any security guards they would also be using the stairs. Oh well, that was what she carried a tranquilizer gun for.

Without further ado the walked back to the door to the stock room, quickly picked the lock, and soundlessly jogged up the stairs.

Pay dirt! she exulted. The second story contained the laboratory and freezer units in which the biohazardous materials were stored. Her eyes fell on the cages full of rats used for testing nearby.

Awww, the poor things. I wonder if I could let them go and everyone would think the break-in was by some radical animal rights group. Twisty, I like it. Then another thought occurred to her. She was breaking into a pharmacy that tested out new medical drugs, if she let those rats go and they were infected with some kind of mutated virus or something she stood a chance of releasing the ironic equivalent of a Black Plague on this city.

No, better leave it alone, she decided. I'm already enough of a Typhoid Mary as it is without an army of plague-carrying rats on my list of credentials. She made her way quietly over to the tall stainless steel freezer units in one corner of the room and scrambled the key pad. The doors opened, she quickly made her selections from the list of code bars she'd copied down earlier, and popped them into a portable cryo-storage tray which was then put into her satchel for safe keeping.

She shut the freezers and her ears picked up the sound of running feet in hard soled cop-shoes. Midii quicky ducked behind a nearby lab sink and counter unit. The door was loudly shoved open and the bright beam of a flashlight was played about the interior of the room; she could hear the panting breaths of a badly out of shape security guard over near the door. Midii crouched in the shadow of the island unit and listened to the sound of his footsteps. Things were getting interesting; her heart rate was going up. She could just take care of things now and shoot him with a tranq dart, it wouldn't hurt him; but if he had friends or had already radioed for back-up itcould complicate matters. Best to play the safe route. She's just play "All-around-the-marigold-bush" with Porky the Rent-a-cop until he finally decided it was a false alarm and went to investigate elsewhere.

She had the song "Mexican Hat Dance" running through her head as the cop advanced into the room and passed right by her to check the rats cages. As Porky made his way over to the freezer units Midii moved without so much as the rustle of cloth to keep the island between herself and the pudgy one with his gun riding low and, Midii noted with some disgust, the crack of his ass showing from the edge of his low riding belt. There were just some kinds of cleavage that shouldn't be shown. She clamped down on her ridiculous urge to laugh at the thought of her landing a spit wad right on that target. It was so tempting. Even in the most serious of situations, she could be such a child.

Resist all temptation, she admonished herself, clamping down on her urge to snicker as she once again moved just out of sight. Here he was maybe five feet from her, but he didn't have the first clue that she was even in the same building as him. Porky hitched up his belt, then scratched his ass and snorted some phlem up his nose while Midi made a disgusted face. Really, how uncouth! He moved once more and she with him, he was headed back towards the door! His inspection complete, he was going to leave. Porky paused at the doorway and then let it rip with a long very loud fart. Midii put her face in her hands torn between silent laughter and disgust.

I've hit a new low point in my career, she thought.

As the door clicked shut behind him she thought

Ole! then hurried toward the window. She checked the sill for alarms just in case then unlocked it and pried it open. Sliding out then hanging by the sill she slid the window down until its was a crack, let go with one hand while the other finished shutting the window. Then she simply dropped to the roof of the first story. From there it was an easy leap to ground level and a jog out to her bike. She didn't bother feeling victorious about her theft. How could a woman feel victorious about a mission like that? It had been stupid!

Oh darn! she thought as she sped away on her bike. I forgot the caffeine pills


	21. Observation and Evasion

Trowa watched with quiet relief when Midii stepped off the top of the first story flat-roof and landed quietly in the bushes, then sprinted off to where she had hidden her transportation. While she had been occupied inside with stealing the viruses, he had put a transmitter on her bike. He'd now be able to follow her movements city-wide via satellite when he couldn't risk tailing her directly. Even at three a.m. there were some cars still out on the streets, but Midii would have to be far less observant than he knew she was not to notice a car following her everywhere she went when there was practically no one on the road.

Trowa called in to Une's office and confirmed Midii's pick up and safe escape. Une grumbled and told him to keep it to himself. He promised her that the full report would be waiting on her desk in the morning and to have a nice sleep, but not to look for him until around noon tomorrow for he intended to catch up on his rest. She'd smiled wryly and made a remark about him needing to stay alert around her then signed off.

Surely that was the last stop, he thought, smothering a yawn. She must be tired and out of energy by now; she'll have to head home soon. 

Unbeknownst to him, Midii was struggling with that exact same decision.

Midii debated pros and cons as she sped down the deserted streets at approximately eighty miles an hour.

I'm really tired right now seeing as I didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night. I've already gotten a lot accomplished in just today and this evening; however, I still have ten people to infect and the sooner it is done the better. Fast acting as these viruses are they still need time to take over the hosts' body. It doesn't do a whole lot of good for me to go to the trouble of stealing these viruses if I don't give the targets enough time to get so sick they have to stay in bed. I should at least do some reconnaissance tonight, but all I really wanna do is go straight to bed. 

Her desire for a good sleep warred with the knowledge that she needed to get several things done as quickly as possible.

There's plenty of time for sleeping in the grave; and if I don't want to get put in mine early, I'd better do what I need to, she decided with finality. She abruptly changed course and headed off to the "airport district" with its huge towering five star hotels. She'd chosen her targets first by importance and second by location. If they weren't in town already, they were going to have to take their chances because Midii couldn't save everyone in this instance.

She stopped and pulled into an abandoned parking lot about a block or so away from The Starlight Plaza Hotel, a five star establishment that boasted its own string quartet in the lobby, two restaurants one with a five star chef and the other with very famous live performances, a timed fountain that put on a choreographed aquatic display timed to the tunes of Mozart, three inner gardens with waterfall pools, palatial suites (that ran in the triple and quadruple digits per night), an indoor spa complete with mud pool for soaking, scented steam and sauna rooms, and three masseuses on retainer, as well as many other luxuries to cater to the rich and or powerful. Luxurious as it was… it, like all other hotels, had crappy security.

Three, possibly four of her targets were in that hotel. They were in different rooms, on different levels, but all of them had balcony rooms. A cake walk. She could infiltrate a number of different ways, the easiest would be to steal a staff uniform and sneak in as part of housekeeping or a maid. However, since she was already wearing her black-ops attire, it would be easiest to simply sneak into the room via the balcony and inject them with the virus directly. Room numbers would be easy to acquire, if she were so inclined it would be a simple matter to create her own master electronic key-card for all of the doors she wanted to unlock, but sneaking in that way was risky, it raised the likelihood of getting caught and that wasn't penciled in on her list of things to do.

First on her hit list was Peitor Ivanovitch, Council Representative of Eurasia. According to the accessed hotel database files he had rented out suite number P117 of the penthouse suites. Midii was on the roof preparing to rappel down to his balcony. When she had been younger, her primary instructor had once teased her with the nickname "fish-bait;" this was because when she was learning the fine art of rappelling she had been so skinny and light that the slack on her cord wouldn't take, leaving her dangling at the end of her first jump like bait on a line. She liked heights just fine, even ones where she was several stories off the ground and looking down at death on a misstep however she had just never really liked rappelling all that much; mainly because of the rope she used in place of a harness tied in a style used by the Alliance military that seemed to be designed for the specific purpose of giving her the atomic wedgie from hell. So far the mission had been comepletely and utterly mediocre, not that she was complaining really… mediocrity was good in that in meant she hadn't gotten caught; but it was a little on the boring side. Even though she was roughly fifteen stories in the air with a breeze riffling up at her hair she was feeling a little bored with it all, there was no real challenge, it felt…tedious.

She shook her head and pushed of the ledge letting herself fall lightly onto the edge of the balcony banister. Afterwards, she quickly and efficiently unclipped herself from her line, pressed the button to release the mechanized anchor clamp that secured her line to the edge of the roof and reeled in the rappel line. After her minimized gear had been quietly and effeiciently stowed she began the long, edgy and familiar process of breaking into her targets home undetected. She loved hotel rooms for this kind of work! Not only were their balconies easy to access and their security so lax that it amounted to shoestring and bubblegum, but the doors that accessed the balcony was conveniently covered by heavy floor-length drapery that hid her after she got the door open; any movement in the drapery caused by her body occupying the space behind it, if it was even seen or noticed at this hour, could be conveintly explained away as a draft in the room. Once her eyes adjusted to the dark and Midii had gotten the layout of the room in her head, she followed the sound of loud snores over to the bed where her target lay. She readied her needle as she crept over, shadow by shadow. Her target was a man with a bulbous nose, florid complexion and a weak chin… her father had told her never to trust a leader with a weak chin. She slunk down next to his bed and sprayed some sleepy-gas into his nostrils for good measure, she definitely did not want him to wake up when she poked him with the needle. After that it was a moments work to find the vein below his elbow and secrete the virulent liquid into his system. She walked out the way she had come in, poised on the edge of the balcony and thought

Jonathan Harrison, suite 2265; four floors down seven balconies over. 

She casually spread her arms and let herself fall into the night.

Work like that, that played up to her natural grace and agility, her affinity for high places and her fearlessness for walking along the edge was work she was eminently suited for. Catching the handrail balcony and tossing herself up onto the little ledge like a cat made her feel so alive. Just for kicks and some excitement, she walked along the first balcony handrail on her hands, flipping over in a round-off cartwheel over the space between that balcony and the one next to it; two cartwheels then three no handed back springs followed soon after until Midii was treating the line of balconies between her and her target room as if she were practicing on a balance beam three feet off the floor instead of turning flips on balcony banisters at least twelve stories up in the air. She smiled, maybe this wasn't so boring after all! The cool night wind ruffled her hair as she danced along the razors edge.

One person watching her was significantly less amused. Trowa worked part time at a circus; he provided entertainment to others by performing daring acts dangerous feats to awe and amaze others. The types of stunts she was pulling right now as a matter of fact would probably draw a crowd… at twelve stories up, it would be a very large crowd. Trowa however, was accustomed to being the one _taking_ the risks; he found it a singularly unpleasant feeling to watch her helplessly as she oh so casually capered about on balcony banisters at a height that would guarantee her death if she slipped. He didn't like the feeling of having his heart take up residence somewhere in his mouth. If it wouldn't have completely blown his cover, he would have seized her by both shoulders and shook her until her teeth rattled around in her head.

What could she be thinking?! She was not supposed to be taking these kinds of risks. She was a spy dammit, shouldn't she be infiltrating by means sneaky and clever (probably invoving a stolen maids uniform) and not acting like some kind of… some kind of… Words eluded him. Trowa breathed a sight of relief when she disappeared into the inside of one of the rooms, he sat back to monitor the hotel security frequencies while Midii did what she had come to do. If all went well, it would be a successful mission, she would have four names crossed off her little list and go home so they could both get some sleep. If all did not go well, Trowa was here to cover for her. A few minutes later she was back out on the balcony again. He zoomed his binocular lenses in another ten points and watched as she, as gracefully as any trapeze artist, fell down from on high and caught the edge of the banister three stories down. In approximately twenty minutes she had the last two targets completed without incident as quickly, quietly, and efficiently as even the most stringent covert operative commander could have wished. Hell… he couldn't have done better himself. That was really saying something.

She safely rappelled down to the ground and sped off on her bike, thankfully headed back towards her house. Just when Trowa was ready to heave a sigh of relief and go back to his own bed for some much needed rest he caught a report of a suspicious motor vehicle leaving the premises and an immediate check on the plate number.

"Shit," he muttered to himself. It figured, just when he was almost home free, he had to stay behind and cover her ass. He intercepted the inquiry feed from the main security brain at the hotel and routed the inquiry to his touchpad. Typed ina reply about the license plate belonging to a member of local law enforcement… pleasure vehicle guy likes to ride at night it was nothing to worry about. He waited a few more minutes and received confirmation that the guards were letting it go.

Trowa extricated himself from the premises much more quietly, though if he were caught they'd see his jacket, or if they challenged him he'd simply flash his ID and they'd let him go. No reason not to be careful. It was now four in the morning and he had been up all night unraveling her trail the night before plus tagging along after her and monitoring her every movement all day; Trowa might have stamina beyond most men (an advantage of an entire lifetime as a tireless soldier) but he did feel fatigue just like anyone else and he was really looking forward to some real rest now.


	22. Plans and Machinations

Midii awoke leisurely at about twelve-going-on-one. Ah! It had felt wonderful to sleep in! She loved nothing more than a good lie-in, preferably in her own home in her own room… but there was really no time for relaxing and watching soap operas, especially not at this critical point in time… she had Z minus two days and counting, that gave her the rest of today and tomorrow afternoon to finish her to-do list. The gathering was tomorrow evening starting at eight and she intended to have all of her pieces in place by then. Now was not the time to laze about in bed.

She ran a brush through her hair, walked over to her fridge and drank some milk directly from the carton while juggling two eggs one handed. Trowa wasn't the only one who could handle that slight of hands stuff. Her breakfast was on the way in a matter of moments, scrambled eggs with toast. Not fancy but Midii was feeling a little lazy right then… not lazy enough to lower her exquisite self to eat dry cereal, or as she liked to call it "kibbles in milk." She warmed up her laptop while she waited for her breakfast to finish frying, then sat in front of her monitor with her meal, careful not to get crumbs in her precious keys. First up on her list, finish recon-ing target homes then deliver unto them their "presents."

The remaining six names on her list were (of course) all staying within town, and all, thankfully on one side of the river. One of the great prides of this city was its beautiful Riverwalk, which the city had invested a large amount of money into making a tourist attraction. It was paved entirely in antiqued white stone with lovely decorative architecture designed to match, it had small decorative falls, decorative bridges, open air restraints, cafés, market squares selling authentic from-the-area crafts designed to display the uniqueness of the surrounding culture. Lovely place really, very romantic looking, perfect place for a romantic stroll with a lover or just an enjoyable bit of shopping.

As luck would have it, of the final six names on her list there were two names per location! Lucky! Vice Speaker Sergio Browonski had a house in town located along the upper east end (nob hill for this city), Lochley Hall, and had invited his old friend Rabbi Kurtzveil (also another name on her list) to stay there through the fete. In a community of houses, slightly more towards the west but still well within the respectable district, built for the wealthy planned by the same people who create gold courses and country clubs lay the Chateau d'Abiliene which had been rented out to house Materu Senti the Council Representative of the African Sub-Continent and his wife and small daughter, and Masaad ibn Jaseem Council Representative for a portion of the L5 Colony Cluster and his wife and two sons for the duration of the festivity. While their daddies were out at their political luncheons and other fun stuff, the wife and kids could be entertained by the variety of activities provided as a service by the special community… rich kid stuff like equestrianism, poolside lounging, massages, baseball and so on. Then located along the Riverwalk in one of the finest hotels in the city, Haven Suites, her final two contestants, Prime Minister of Foreign Affairs Paul Jameson and Chief of the Trade Alliance Hajime Kuramori had both rented out rooms for the duration of their stay.

Deftly she pulled up schematics on the tree residences to look for ways to sneak in and finish her missions. Lochley Hall out of all of them was the least accessible. A private residence, typical fully restored old mansion; three stories, two wings, circular driveway, fountain, ivy covered, troublesome security system, estate hounds, perimeter fence, no cover, monitoring cameras…

What a pain! she thought. She didn't have time to break into every last house like a professional cat burglar. Oh, she could do it all in one night no question but it would take too long and she'd have to wait until nightfall, giving the virus only a few hours to do its work on her targets. She didn't know if it would be enough, so…

Stop thinking like a bounty-hunter and start thinking like a spy, she ordered herself. She had to switch her brain from thief-cat-burglar-sneaking-in-the-roofwalk to spy-walking-in-through-the-front-door. She'd get the job done a lot quicker if she didn't have to probe their defenses for weak points to sneak in through. Over the course of her work she'd had occasion more than once to infiltrate the realm of the idle rich. She'd passed herself off as anything from rich mans Gal Friday to idle rich socialite. It wasn't hard, although keeping in character was key; it shouldn't be too difficult to find her way back to old habits. Old habits died hard, and the past had a way of catching up with one.

All I need are alibis, a change of clothes and the right credentials.

Heero Yuy diligently monitored the apartment of Agent-in-training Midii Une as he had been instructed to by Lady Une. Trowa Barton was (uncharacteristically) sleeping in, so he had been manned to the post his friend had been assigned to until now. Something was going on and they were keeping it all hush-hush; it bothered him vaguely that he was being kept out of the loop concerning this person. He prided himself on knowing everything that went on where he was concerned and his inability to make simple inquiries about why he had been set to watch one of their own agents irked him a little. Une had let him in on the happenings with the Consortium and their planned attack, and had let him know that they were monitoring Midii Une… but neither she nor even his own comrade Trowa had told him why or how they knew of Midii and her activities.

He trusted Trowa; the tall Gundam Pilot had demonstrated repeatedly that his loyalties always lay in the correct place, and that even though his actions might sometimes seem traitorous he was always one step ahead of the people he seemed to side with and always in the right place at the right time to act effectively. He didn't understand what his connection to this new agent of theirs was; he could sense that it went deeper than just Trowa having been assigned to show her the ropes around the Preventors, but Heero was pretty sure that Trowa had his reasons for this tiresome charade. He and Trowa were probably the most similar out of all the young men who had piloted Gundams and Heero was oddly inclined to trust the judgment of his comrade. If that meant keeping an eye on Trowa's wayward charge well, Heero would simply do as he had been instructed; track the movements of Midii Une, keep out of sight, don't let her see him and report back to base regularly on her movements and activities.

Right now she was calling up schematics on her computer for three places in town that were holding some of the more important delegates to the fete taking place tomorrow evening. Heero was caught a little off guard when she suddenly shut down her laptop and started moving about her apartment. Could she have seen him or realized she was being monitored? After a few minutes of watching her Heero came to the conclusion that his cover was still good, she was walking hurriedly around the apartment, throwing things into a bag while simultaneously calling a taxi cab to pick her up, then a car rental business to place a reservation on some nice wheels (under an assumed name he noted, and she probably had the fake ID and credentials to go with it). Within moments she was out the door and catching the cab she'd called, duffle-bag full of miscellanea slung over her shoulder.

He called ahead as he began to expertly follow her cab across town, weaving in and out of traffic, keeping just in sight of her but always trying to change his position so that just in case she did spy him she wouldn't be certain whether he was the same person or someone else. One of the Preventors would meet him near her destination with a change of vehicles. It made surveillance work easier and far less obtrusive if the ones doing the observing were able to change their appearance rapidly. Midii had rented a very posh Aston Stellar, the newest model had just come out that year and the one she was borrowing for the day was especially nice. Heero noted that the place she was renting to catered to the very wealthy, people on the go who were merely visiting the city for a while but wanted conveyance in the style to which they were accustomed. He vaguely wondered where she was getting the bread to pay for it but dismissed the matter for later scrutiny.

When Midii emerged from the cab Heero was treated to a whistle from the person who had just pulled up beside him within spying distance of Heero's target for the day.

"What a fox," Duo said, looking over the rim of his sunglasses at the young blonde who was collecting the keys from the car dealer. She _was_ looking exceptionally well groomed; three inch stiletto heels, a tan suede miniskirt obviously cut to display long shapely legs, crème colored silk blouse with the bare suggestion of see-through, matching fitted over-jacket cut to accentuate a full bosom and trim waist. A tiny matching handbag completed the ensemble. The duffle was thrown in the back and the young woman with her artfully careless hair in a twist pulled out of the driveway and was on her way.

"Get in Heero, we're gonna lose her," Duo instructed. Heero looked at Duo for a minute then said

"One, when were we suddenly assigned to work together; and two… you know I always drive."

"Whatever man, just get in and let's get going. Besides, you drive like a maniac."

"_I_ drive like a maniac? I'd rather accept a challenge to a duel from Zechs than have to ride when you're behind the wheel."

"You have no appreciation for artistic flare," Duo said dismissively as Heero strapped himself in.

"I have no appreciation for finding myself wrapped around a tree either," was the reluctant partner's reply.

"I will remind you that it was your fault in the first place, if you hadn't said left and then added your other left things would have been just fine."

This was the main reason Heero and Duo were rarely assigned together; they were a regular Felix and Oscar… the Original Odd Couple. They could handle most real missions and emergency stuff with a high level of efficiency but putting them together for regular stuff was generally perceived to be a bad idea. Their personalities were near complete opposites; Duo thought Heero needed to lighten up and Heero though Duo needed to stop taking things so lightly; despite the fact that they always seemed to be squabbling… they were both best friends.

They stealthily followed Midii's rented Stellar to a fine mansion on the upper East End called Lochley Hall, the same place the Vice Speaker of the Council and the Honorable Rabbi Kurtzviel were currently staying. There was a large garden party going on with a number of the wealthy elite in attendance. Women in fine dressed and elegant coifs watched from behind sunglasses and genteel glasses of sherry as their husbands mingled and talked politics and business. Midii produced an invitation when asked by the guard manning the gate and proceeded in without a hitch. Heero and Duo set up surveillance on the outside perimeter, binoculars in hand.

"She seemed like such a nice young woman too," Duo commented as they watched her mingle easily with the crowd. "This doesn't look like any family emergency I've ever seen."

"I haven't been given all the information, just that this girl is involved pretty deeply with the attack that's about to go down at the fete tomorrow," Heero asided to his partner. "And you still haven't said why you're here."

"Hilde sprained her ankle; Une said she could use someone who was good at sneaking around… naturally she was referring to yours truly. So she stuck me with the partnerless wonder, also known as the man whos only philosophy in life is "if he wants something done right he has to do it himself." And apparently you feel no one can do anything right but you."

"That's not true," Heero said as he continued to squint into his binoculars. "Plenty of people can do plenty of things correctly… just not up to my standards."

"Well excuse me for being a mere mortal," Duo grumbled.

"Could you keep it down over there?"

"I think I recall having this conversation once before."

A few minutes later Heero suddenly said

"She's on the move, let's go."

"Geeze that was quick!" Duo exclaimed. "I was under the impression that women liked to hang out at these social things. They take forever to get ready for them; you'd think they'd want to make sure their efforts were worthwhile."

"She's not here for the canapés Duo," Heero said bluntly. "She's on some kind of self-imposed mission. I saw her deposit a nuskin patch on the Vice Speaker and the Rabbi, the kind that holds a drug that is slowly absorbed into the skin. I'm not sure what kind of drug she's using on them but I'm going to report in to base. Just make sure you don't lose her."

"I'll try to perform up to your standards your lordship," Duo grumbled sarcastically. Heero ignored him and called into headquarters on his cell phone.

Midii headed west from Lochley Hall for a bit, then pulled into a side street for a minute while Duo and Heero changed vehicles half a block away barely in sight. She didn't emerge from her vehicle however.

"What's she doing?" Duo wondered after a minute of waiting in a used jeep and no action.

"Changing her clothes," Heero said bluntly.

"What?! And you didn't tell me? You sly dog!" Duo grinned. Heero frowned repressively.

"I'm not watching her undress in her borrowed vehicle Duo," Heero stated baldly. "We've been assigned to track her progress; we're not here to play peeping toms."

"Well if the opportunity presents itself, who are we to say no?"

"Shall I mention that particular philosophy to Hilde the next time I see her?" Heero inquired, in what might have almost been a teasing tone were it anyone else but Heero.

"Don't you dare," Duo said quickly. "Or I'll mention to Zechs that you've been following his sister around."

"He's all the way on Mars, what can he do?"

"Good point. She's moving again," Duo said as he placed the engine in gear and continued tracking her. Even Heero of the Impossibly High Standards had to admit that Duo was very good at following unobtrusively. Fifteen minutes later they arrived at the Gated Community called Beachwalk. A bit of an ironic name… it had a man-made lake for the houses and golf course to be built upon but the lake itself lacked an actual beach to it, it was just grassy lawn up to the edge then some gravel and water. Beachwalk contained more than just the regular pool and gym of most "retiring farms" (gated communities that were built to house wealthy retired doctors, lawyers, businessmen and the occasional politician) it had its own country club, three golf courses, equestrian trails, yachting outlet and so many other amenities. Such communities had found their way out to the rest of the world from Florida.

Midii produced an ID from out of nowhere and proceeded in.

"Whaddaya think?" Duo said speculatively. "Do you think we can follow her in there and still maintain our cover? I dunno if I'm up to getting lost in suburbia. Besides that, it's hard to keep out of sight in a place like that."

"Good point. We could proceed on foot," Heero suggested.

"In Preventors jackets? Or even without them and looking like we both do normally? No way, we won't fit in there at all."

"Another valid point."

"Yep I've got points out the yin yang."

Heero was about to say something else when his work cell phone rang.

"Yuy," he answered tersely. He listened for a second and made what was obviously a reply to a query. "The target has had no difficulties integrating herself in among elite social circles and has planted some kind of medication dispensing device on the Vice Speaker and Rabbi Yossel Kurtzeil." He then waited a few more minutes with an attitude of listening then said "Alright. I understand."

"What's up?" Duo asked.

"We've been ordered to abandon previous parameters and we are to return to base for new orders."

"What about the little missy?" Duo inquired, gesturing in front of him to where she had gone.

"It has been judged that her activities are in the best interests of our mission. She will continue unhindered. In fact Water and Dragon have been assigned to track down the medical doctors of each of the targets selected by Midii Une and ah… urge them to exaggerate the medical nature of their virus to ensure that the targets selected by Miss Une remain in bed for several days."

"Good idea," Duo applauded. "Let's head out then."

The jeep pulled away and headed south towards Preventors Headquarters undetected by the woman who was already halfway completed with her second mission.

Midii pulled her rented Stellar out of a driveway nearby the Haven Suits Hotel on the Riverwalk with a feeling of a job well done. Missions accomplished. She had integrated herself along the pool of the country club as a swimsuit model who was on her break for the week between shoots. The two politicians relaxing away from their wives had been so busy admiring her skimpy bikini that they had missed her slipping a little something extra into their drinks. As for the last job… stealing a maids uniform from the in-house dry cleaners and creating herself a magic key-card and security clearance pass had been childs play. The rooms of both Mister Kawamori and Mister Jameson had been on the same floor so wandering around with a stocked housekeeping cart had granted her access to them. Once inside she had only to slip the nuskin patches onto their pillows, change her clothes and walk out. A little less personal than Midii liked but she was reasonably certain that they'd get her little presents.

She'd been sorely tempted to indulge herself in a little R and R at the spa; a massage would have been heavenly and Midii felt like she had really earned it! But she had a host of other things she had to do… business before pleasure after all. Perhaps a little later, after she was all done with this Consortium mess.

While she was on the subject of the Consortium mess, she had a partially completed list she needed to complete before tomorrow night. She first needed to investigate main Consortium bases, then she would pull up her old Allinace security clearance to access secured Alliance military weapons bunkers to see which were still intact and which had been found by the Preventors and destroyed; after that her mission was to access their systems and re-route all security protocols to her laptop. She would be destroying several Consortium bases by targeting them with the missiles still stored in the leftover weapons bunkers. She intended to choose the bases to be destroyed mainly by their location; more specifically their proximity to an undiscovered and still active Alliance weapons bunker. When X12 sent the virus she had hired him to create into the system of the Consortium she would send the command to deploy the missiles onto the targets she would be creating for them once her reconnaissance was completed. While the Consortium was in a state of pandemonium, Midii would go after Mr. Smith then free her family. She worried about the order of her operations however; she wanted to get her family out of the line of danger before she hit the kingpins, but if she tried to rescue them first that might tip Smith and the others off to her plans of rampant mayhem and destruction for the evening. It looked like she was just going to have to wait until after the bombs had gone off and Smith had been cleared out of her way to rescue her family. She chaffed under the restrictions but she hadn't survived for so long without developing steel nerves and patience.

Oh fudge, I forgot to take care of the matter of transportation! she thought. She had been so concerned with getting all of her pieces into place that she had utterly forgotten the perfectly mundane matter of how she was supposed to get from point A to point B as quickly as humanly possible. The best solution would be to steal a chopper or jet of some kind. The only ones she knew of anywhere nearby were in Preventors custody (and therefore out of the question) or at the airport; and trying to steal a profitable vehicle from a transportation company was just crazy and stupid. It wouldn't be so bad of she could steal a corporate jet though… those transports were privately owned and less heavily guarded. In fact, she knew of one that was going to be in town and in the air field at just the right time. The head of Winner Corporations was going to be visiting there at the fete, she could just borrow his while he was attending the party, she was sure he wouldn't miss it for a few hours. Besides, he was rich he probably had fifteen more just like it.

She'd jump that ditch when she came to it, right now she had more homework to do. The day was already halfway gone and she had two more major tasks to complete… and miles to go before she could sleep; to coin an old phrase. She still had the downloaded hard drive from Smiths computer lying around so now it was simply a matter of calling up a worldmap on her computer and pinpointing all of their major bases, then accessing Secured Alliance feeds (sure to be a few years out of date but nonetheless…) and pinpointing all of their weapons bunkers, however their locations wouldn't do her much good unless she knew which bases had been destroyed by the Preventors; she'd have to access their database and find their past missions files. Knowing which bunkers had already been taken out and which were still opperable would narrow the field; with their communications systems down the Consortium was like a turtle on its back, she should have time and more than enough time in which to act.

With that she warmed up her computer and plugged in the data pod with Smiths hard drive stored on it; another long night of homework awaited her. She wished she were with Trowa instead.

It was early in the evening when Trowa woke up and he had done so only very reluctantly. He had been having the nicest dream. When he'd been a boy growing up, he couldn't recall dreaming much of anything; when he'd been very young he'd dreamed of warm places and loving arms that held him sometimes but those pleasant dreams had gradually faded away into dreams of stark lonely battlefields and suit tactics screens. Then he'd stopped dreaming altogether; he'd closed his eyes and faded into inky blackness then knew no more until he opened them again. The previous evening had treated him to the kind of dreams that made his body ache when he faded into consciousness. They had been all about her, first he'd dreamed that he was lying in the grass somewhere and it was a sunny day; Midii had been lying contentedly in his arms and it had felt so warm and right. She'd opened her eyes to look at him and they had been filled with emotions of love and adoration… all for him, only for him. He'd leaned in to begin the first of many shared kisses when he was jostled rudely from his comfortable state into the harsh reality of a lonely bed by the telephone ringing. No; he did not want to switch his long distance plan. He'd only been asleep for a few hours so he'd flipped over onto his stomach and buried his head in the pillows. The dreams that had followed when he fell back to sleep had all featured her; each one more tantalizing than the one before it. He was having a hard time of it… literally. The one that he'd been having before he woke up for good made him head for the clichéd-out cold shower.

After a shower and a change of uniform and a bite to eat Trowa was wondering how precisely he was supposed o face the woman of his dreams in reality when certain delightful images of her in various stages of undress kept popping into his head at odd moments. It might make things awkward for him. Fortunately he was a past master at hiding behind a mask and it could darned well do him some good for a change. With that in mind he headed into HQ to catch up on what he had missed during the day.

As Trowa walked up the hall to Une's office the first person he should see was just the man he'd been looking for. Heero yuy, the man who had been assigned to monitor Midii Une while Trowa got some rest, carried a file in his right hand.

"Is that the report on Midii for the day?" Trowa questioned without preamble. Heero nodded and Trowa snagged it and flipped it open, leaning on his right shoulder against the wall as he scanned it.

"And since when do I report to you?" Heero muttered darkly. Trowa didn't even hear him.

"Barton, Yuy," Wufei Chang called from down the hall just as he had finished reading the last line and was handing it back to his compatriot. Trowa looked up.

"Lady Une just called a tactics meeting for all elite personnel in Green Hall Conference room two," he said. Trowa and Heero walked back down the hall to join their full-time Preventor friend. When the three of them entered the room they met the gazes of Lady Une, Sally Po, Duo Maxwell, and few other miscellaneous personnel.

"Now that we're all here, lets begin," Une said with very little preamble. She pulled up a projection of multiple viewpoints of the blueprints to Ayerie Hall, the summer home of Henry Sinclair, a wealthy politician and ex-lawyer from a line of wealthy politicians and ex-lawyers.

"Aside of the usual security measures already in place for the evening, the Preventors will be taking some additional measures to ensure that the evening proceeds in a somewhat orderly manner and that we limit the number of casualties to as few as conceivably possible. There will be active scans for weapons at the entrances of the premises, as well as other dangerous materials. The second and third floors as well as all non-public areas will be off limits and guarded at most access points. There will be trained explosives dogs on the premises through out the evening."

"Excuse me ma'am," one Preventor said, raising his hand slightly to call her attention. "I may be pointing out the obvious here but I recall that myself and my partner have already sent explosives dogs through the premises."

"Yes Preventor Stone you have, however we cannot afford to totally rule out the possibility of additional explosives being smuggled in. In this case, a little could go a long way."

Une switched to another view on the screen by pressing a button and the ball room was zoomed in on. "There will be a special anti-sniper team put into place for the duration of the evening as our sources indicate that a sniper attack is the most likely route. Preventors Seed, Core, Blaze and Cloud will be assigned as the sniper Team. Preventor Stone will be in charge of the dogs to detect explosives as he has done such a bang-up job previously. You are dismissed to report to you assigned sectors nd begin organization for tomorrow night."

The named Preventors left the room with a salute. Une turned to the rest of them, which included only the Elites and no other Preventors.

"What you are about to hear stays in this room," she stated unequivocally. "As one or two of you are already aware there is more to tonight than merely a high-profile fete. After the ruckus goes down in Ayerie Hall, I will want a simultaneous strike on several locations timed and coordinated; the use of force to apprehend all persons, weapons, and data systems within these locations is permitted. It's a lot to pull off but if anyone can do it… Water, you and Dragon will be in overall command of the strikes, several teams have already been dispatched by me to their assigned locations and are there awaiting further orders. Sally, as an ex-Alliance Military Officer, I assume you know how to access certain security codes?"

"Never my forte, but if given enough time…" she replied.

"Good. There are several hidden weapons bunkers that according to my sources have been recently activated and all security protocols have been re-routed to a mobile command. I want you to find it and re-route command to us then set up a dummy system in its place so that the person or persons behind the activation of the Alliance Security net wont know that it has been tampered with."

"Dragon, while she's doing that I want you to review the individual mission dokets and ensure that your team leaders know their stuff." Wufei nodded once, shortly.

"Wing," Une said, turning her head to meet the gaze of the redoubtable Heero Yuy. "As Prime Minister of Foreign Relations Peter Jameson has suddenly come down with a terrible illness he has sent his Vice Minister in his place. As you are aware, Vice Minister Darlian is very valuable as politician and as a token of stability to those around her. Allowing harm to befall her is not an option; so therefore it has been judged by me that closer supervision is required for the duration of the evening. Her superiors agree." Une slid a slim manila folder of forms forward on the table. "Here are your mandate forms signed by both her direct superior Peter Jameson and her overall superior President Luchenko. You have the position of bodyguard for the duration of the evening."

"Setting the fox to guard the hen house are we?" Duo suggested a little dubiously. Heero, predictably, glared at him for his remark.

"Preventor Death,"Une said, not missing a beat. "You'll be assisting Preventor Smoke on a small mission before you rendezvous with the main field-team for orders. It's nothing onerous, in fact, I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

"Oh, and Smoke, you have your orders already. Don't let her out of your sight tomorrow evening. For now, pack up for a small trip to France."

I wonder how long it has been since I last updated thing. I always kinda meant to, but never quite got around to it. So, I hope if anyone out there is actually still sort of following this one, that they like the chapter.


	23. Diplomats and Deliveries

The Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs Relena Darlian looked around her office. Someone had kindly kept it dusted for her she noted, otherwise there would surely have been cobwebs in the corners and a thick layer of dust coating every surface. As the Vice Foreign Minister her work kept her out of her office far more often than not, she was kept in such a constant state of travel from one point to the next that she had almost forgotten she actually had an office. Relena considered herself rather like a field agent, she got the orders from the head of her office and was dispatched to attend to them immediately (from whatever place she happened to be at the moment). Her days were rounds of countless meetings and mediations and shuttle trips to different colonies and different points all across the Earth, punctuated by receptions in many of the evenings or even a formal sit down dinner to discuss (gasp!) politics. Her nights were spent in different hotel rooms, with rarely two of them being the same in a row for Relena was rarely ever in one place long enough to stay two nights in a row at the same hotel. The names, the dates, the places, the faces all tended to blend together in an endless stream of day-after-day as one day followed the next and bled into the next.

Her father had taken so many trips to other places that young Relena had often felt that he spent more time out in the field than at home with his family; it was an older Relena that saw that he had spent as much time with his wife and daughter as he possibly could have and still maintain a high level of efficiency at his job. Relena hadn't been home for well over two years, she was simply too busy. It felt a little strange to take her seat behind her oak desk; she didn't really feel like the place belonged to her for all that there was a plaque with her name on it outside the door… she just hadn't spent enough time in it to feel like the place was really hers.

I wonder what that says about the rest of my life? she thought idly, pulling open the key-drawer to curiously investigate its contents. Yes, she didn't even know what was in the desk drawers of her own office. Pathetic.

Relena had been about to start in on her list of things to do for that day when she was surprised to hear a knock on her door. She was brought up short; that was odd… who would possibly know she was here? Paul Jameson had just talked to her on the phone an hour ago and to her knowledge no one would usually think to look for her there, it was automatic for everyone to just try her on her mobile (the only certain way of reaching the busy Vice Minister).

I just got here and sat down, whoever it is can just open the door all by themselves, she thought, a little contrarily. She had been rousted out of her hotel bed early that morning by her boss and her morning coffee had yet to kick in. Relena was feeling a little out of sorts from the evening before, which had been spent at a late-evening tete-a-tete with two members of the Trade Commission. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers… she was beginning to feel another of her headaches coming on.

"Come in," she called softly, already absorbed in reading a document sent to her by the Earth Sphere Unified Nation Advisory Council requesting her attention on a matter involving a few of the older colonies in the Lagrange Point Four sector. She didn't hear any movement so she had assumed that the person or persons, whoever they had been, had lost interest in bothering her and had taken themselves off.

"If I had been an enemy, you would already be dead," a familiar voice startled her, just as she had been about to take another sip of coffee. She started, and some of the coffee spilled over on to her hand, scalding her. She set the mug down with an abrupt thump that put a ring on the uppermost pages of the documents she had printed off from her mobile that morning and shook her hand, which glared back at her with an angry red color. It wasn't that she was unhappy to see Heero, on the contrary she liked him very much, but he could have come at a more convenient time. Like ten seconds later for example. Her irritation at the pain in her hand and the minor pressure that had just blossomed into a full-blown headache showed on her face however and she scowled at him.

"Mister Yuy," she said with an unaccustomed crispness to her voice. "Bothering me before I finish my first cup of coffee is a punishable offense in this office."

He blinked.

She drew in a breath, hoping against hope that he wasn't going to bring up the damned security issue with her again. If she had told him once, she'd told him a thousand times. Not that she didn't appreciate the concern for her safety, but her father had never had bodyguards and she didn't need them either. She didn't want someone around her who was only there because he was paid to be; she wanted… Relena resolutely brushed it aside. She had other matters to concentrate on. She picked her document back up so that she wouldn't have to look over at him and see how very attractive she found him in his formal Preventors uniform, the one that was cut to accentuate his lean, muscled physique, the one that never failed to make her breath quietly catch and her heart beat a little faster. Yes, she definitely had more important things to do.

Heero slid a manila folder with papers across the mostly cleared surface of her desk at her and cleared his throat. Still not meeting his deep blue gaze she pulled the folder nearer to her and flipped it open.

"What's this?" she questioned. It looked like it was orders come directly from her superior, Mister Jameson (who had taken sick leave because of a recent bug).

"I have been assigned as your personal bodyguard for the evening," he informed her in flat monotone.

"We've been over this before, I don't have a personal bodyguard Heero," she replied, almost by rote. They had been going round and round with each other on this one for months. He suddenly showed up out of nowhere about eight or nine months ago and had had the temerity to begin by telling her that her security was insufficient and that she should have at least one person guarding her at all times. Guarding her from what, precisely? The Boogeyman? There was nothing she needed to be guarded _from_ for heavens sake!

"You do now," he said.

Relena skimmed the mandates inside the folder; sure enough they came not only from her direct supervisor but all the way from the top, the president of the Earth Sphere Unified Nation.

"Alright, how'd you do it? Bribe or blackmail?" she asked wryly.

"That would be telling," he replied. There was no expression on his face, no subtle coloring in his tone; but he was feeling smug, very pleased with himself and quite triumphant at his major victory. She couldn't prove it because he looked exactly the same as he always did, she just knew it… she could smell it. She wasn't going to let him get away with his smugness nor was she going to let him get away with this mandate from on high either. She re-read the papers again and found to her relief that the orders were only temporary; it was just for the evening. Well, let him have his minor victory. It was only temporary; perhaps after he'd had his chance at guarding her life from nothing he'd see how pointless and boring it would be and would lose interest. After all, it was only a party… he'd probably be bored out of his mind having to hang on her arm while she spent the night politicking with the Earth Spheres' top leaders of trade and what-not.

There was a very carefully repressed part of her that hoped he _wouldn't_ get bored acting as her escort and would want to do it more often. But no; she had worked very hard to achieve her level of independence and wasn't willing to part with it just to become Heero's new mission. They were nothing more than old friends, that was all and she could be happy with that. If she never meant anything more to him than a dear friend she could be happy with it; because it meant that he at least considered her as a friend.

Part of her condemned herself for being a coward, she hadn't wanted to let him get close to her for fear that she would find out that all she had ever been to him was a source of hope and strength; someone to be worshipped from a pedestal, but never actually cared for in a personal manner. She wanted to cherish the precious illusion that they had at least been friends. If he'd never wanted to feel anything, even friendship, for her she didn't want to know that; it was cowardly and willfully blind… but Relena didn't think even she had the courage to face a truth like that. Not when she still loved him so. She could ignore her feelings, or try to push them away by pretending they were something else, but it was a fact that she had loved him all along and that she had worried about him and wondered how he had been doing when she never heard word of him. Relena honestly wasn't certain which was worse; having her beloved far away from her when she loved him so much and worried about him constantly, or having her love close by and running the risk that he would discern her feelings but wouldn't return them. For the first time in a long time, Relena was truly worried about something aside of her work.

It's easy to bury myself in my work and ignore my heart, she thought at herself as she picked up another document. She knew that as soon as she began to read it, the world around her would cease to exist, someone could march an army through her office and she wouldn't notice until after she'd finished reading.

It's the way I've done things, the way I'm comfortable, it's the safe way, the easy way… she thought, hesitating a moment. Am I really a coward? Am I just running again?

"What's the matter?" Heero inquired. "You look upset."

Relena snapped out of her thoughts and realized she'd been holding a document in mid-air for the past few moments.

"Um, it's nothing," she demurred. "If you're going to be escorting me to the fete tonight I suppose I had better find a dress that won't clash with your uniform."

Sally looked over at her younger partner, Wufei Chang and said

"Whoever it is that we're guarding against is really quite thorough."

"Hm?" Wufei inquired, still engrossed in keeping the leaders of the different teams coordinated. "What did you say Sally?"

"I said the one who is taking control of those hidden Alliance weapons bunkers is very thorough. I think the dummy system has whoever-it-is fully distracted however. I'm glad that Une had me prepare it in advance, although when she gave me the order to construct such a thing I thought she had lost her mind. Everything seems to be going according to plan so far."

"Then expect them to go wrong at any moment," Wufei replied.

"Ah, still a pessimist I see," she replied to his statement.

"I'm a realist. I fully believe that Murphy's Law is one of the unwritten laws that govern this universe. I've been on enough missions to observe that anything that can go wrong will indeed go wrong and at the worst possible moment."

"True enough, but for the moment, everything is coming up roses."

"Roses have thorns," he said flatly.

"I give up," she said with a small chuckle and turned back to her dummy system.

Trowa sat in the drivers seat of a non-descript van parked outside of a square quad of buildings in France. He didn't bother checking his weapon, he already had and he was feeling sanguine enough about the odds of his success that a second check would be unnecessary. His badge and identification were within easy reach and for the parameters of this mission that would hopefully be all that was needed.

"I've never before been involved in an actual kidnapping," Trowa stated calmly.

"Now you'll be involved in three, scratch that, four kidnappings," Duo replied. "It shouldn't be difficult. Technically the law is on our side and as long as we stay inconspicuous, don't endanger any civilians, and keep to the sunny side of legality we should be fine."

"I'm not worried; risks are minimal, especially at this particular time of day."

"You'd think a kidnapping would be a little more exciting though," Duo said, a little disappointedly. "Picking a bunch of kids of from school wearing our Preventors Uniforms is pretty dull."

"Any level of activity out of the ordinary would likely tip the Consortium Agents off to our activities. At this stage it could possibly be disastrous if they were forewarned. Make no mistake; the rescue of these hostages is important Duo. It is equally important that their captors not know who is behind their rescue until later."

It had been judged that for this particular style of mission, the direct approach would be the best method to use. The parameters and layout of the mission were simple; they would go in to the school dressed in their Preventors uniforms and meet with the Headmaster. The two youngest Une boys went to this school, they would be called out from their classes on the pretext of an emergency with involving their dear sister… not entirely a lie. The Headmaster would be given explicit orders that any inquiries as to the whereabouts of the children or how they had gotten out of school by anyone other than proven immediate family were to be met with polite refusal. With any luck, the boys would not even be seen leaving the building in Preventor custody by anyone else thus silencing eyewitness accounts. After the two younger Une boys were fetched they would proceed to fetch the eldest of Midii's brothers. The Preventors involvement in removing the Une boys from Consortium control would hopefully remain secret. Originally the plan had been for them to wait until the bell had rung releasing them from school for the day, but it had been deemed unnecessarily risky; after school was when the Consortium members came to pick the boys up. It wouldn't do for the Consortium members to spy the lads being picked up by the Preventors and thus be tipped off about Preventor interest and involvement. Such a sighting would be dangerous for all involved, especially Midii and her family.

After the three Une sons were cleared of their respective educational facilities and taken to a secured location in town in preparation for them to be moved somewhere out of town and away from the Consortium for good; Trowa and Duo were going to sneak into Midii's household proper and try to smuggle her ailing father out as well.

"Well, I'm ready to go, are you?" Duo inquired more as a formality than because he doubted the stoic Trowa's preparedness for the mission.

"I am prepared," Trowa replied, his demeanor as calm, cool and unruffled as ever it was.

They climbed out from the two sides of the dark Preventor-owned purposely-nondescript van and proceeded up the front steps of the children's educational facility. It was a short walk down the echoing, empty tiled halls to the main office of the headmaster. The receptionist/administrative assistant did a small double take when they opened the doors and saw her uniforms.

"How may I help you two gentlemen?" she inquired as they walked up to her desk. It was Trowa, and not the usually convivial and chatty Duo who replied.

"I and my partner would like to request an immediate audience with the Headmaster of this school. The matter is urgent."

"I'll inform him right away," she said, looking a little worried about what two agents of an organization that worked worldwide to protect peace could possibly want with their obscure little school. She buzzed the intercom and said

"Headmaster Clarke? There are two agents from the Preventors out here and they say they need to meet with you immediately about something urgent." A pause as a tiny voice buzzed back indecipherably at her.

"…Well, yes, they look genuine enough. Though, I must say they are a trifle young." She said in what was obviously a reply.

Another pause.

"No, I really don't think it's a prank."

Yet one more pause.

"I'll send them in right away."

She turned to face the two of them, Duo had tried to stand a little straighter in an effort to make himself look taller (Trowa still dwarfed him by half a head).

"The headmaster will see you now," the woman reported unnecessarily. "It's down that hall behind me last corridor to your left and the door is at the end of the hall."

"Thanks babe," Duo said with a ceerful wave as Trowa merely nodded. They were both young enough to be her sons, perhaps he should have shown up with his badge out.

The office, when they stepped into it was unprepossessing. There was a large, cheap fake oak desk piled high with papers and folders and a skinny short balding drip of a man with a head that looked like it was ritualistically turtle-waxed wedged into a spinning overstuffed chair behind it. The carpeting was thin (no more than a mere formality really) the awards were few and the walls the same neutral beige-muck as the rest of the school.

"Preventors?" the educator said looking surprised, a little pleased and nervous at the same time. "What can I do for the Preventors this fine day? Would you like some coffee?"

"No thanks," Duo said, using a deliberately casual tone and manner to try to put the man at ease. "We're not here to announce something awful befalling your school or anything so you don't need to worry about that. We're just here to have you call down two boys to the principals office for us. We need to pick them up, there's a bit of a situation at home you see and we'd appreciate your full cooperation in this little matter."

"Of course, certainly, absolutely," the administrator said, all helpfulness. Probably so he could brag to his fellow administrators later that he got to help the Preventors solve an important case. "Who shall I have sent up?"

"Jason and Michael Une," Trowa replied.

The balding man frowned a little.

"Jason might be into small time mischief, the occasional prank or toilet papering of a rival school's statue, but I can't think that he would be involved in something of a nature which would call the Preventors in. His brother Michael is a good student."

"It's not actually really about them," said Duo. "They just happen to have gotten mixed up into things. Wrong place at the wrong time y'know."

Trowa's face turned even more serious (if at all possible) as he turned to the headmaster and said

"On behalf of the Preventors organization your full cooperation in this matter is required. Any involvement on the part of the Preventors does not leave this office. You neither saw us nor do you know of where the two Une children could have disappeared to should anyone aside of proven immediate family inquire as to their whereabouts. If you have any further questions pertaining to this matter you will contact Preventors Headquarters directly using the number on the back of this card."

Trowa handed him a small whit business card with the Preventors logo on it that had been given to him for just this reason.

"Your discretion in this matter is required," he finished.

The principal looked at the card, then up at the two of them a little dubiously.

"The credentials seem genuine enough, but such proofs can be faked," he said, clearing his throat. "With all due respect, how can I be certain that you two young men truly re from the Preventors Agency and that your removal of Jason and Michael from the protection of school grounds is legitimate?"

"I'm glad you asked that," Duo said. "Just talk to Lady Une, hers is the second number on the card by the way; she'll confirm everything."

The Principal nodded cautiously. Then there was a soft knock at the door followed by the receptionist leading in two boys of twelve and fourteen.

"I didn't do it!" the fourteen year old protested on his way in.

"It's not about you this time Jason Une, although what it is that you "didn't do" I am sure we will be discussing at a later time," the receptionist replied firmly.

"Why am _I_ here?" The younger one asked. "I've never been to the Headmaster's office before."

Trowa could immediately see the family resemblance, especially in the younger of the two. Michael looked just like a little-boy version of Midii around that age, but without the remorse and tragedy… or the purposefully obnoxious expression.

"We were sent by your sister," Trowa said without preamble. "You're to come with us."

"Midii sent you?" Michael said hopefully, looking around. "Well where is she?"

"Aw pipe down Mic," Jason said a little scornfully. "We don't know these guys, d'you actually think they're telling the truth?"

"They're wearing Preventor Uniforms," Michael pointed out.

"They could still be fakes," Jason maintained.

In answer, Trowa fished out his badge and identicard from his breast pocket and handed it to the younger boys.

"I.D.'s can be faked too," Jason said, still skeptical. He would expect nothing less from the brother of a practiced spy. In Midii's world, you weren't paranoid… you were the one that was still breathing. A little paranoia was a necessary survival trait. It made sense that she'd drill that kind of deep-grained skepticism into her precious family members in order to keep them a little safer in her absence.

"Would you rather head home?" Trowa asked quietly, giving him a small significant look. Jason's eyes widened and he glanced quickly over at the Headmaster. Trowa shook his head, indicating that he hadn't told the man anything.

"Let's see real proof you know my sister," Jason said, stubbornly.

"Yeah," Michael piped up. "Otherwise we're staying put."

As a trump card the two boys didn't have much to play, they would be going with the Preventors whether or not they'd consented to it. Trowa however, did not really wish to risk the very potent wrath of an overprotective elder sister; especially one with access to explosives who could find out where he lived.

"Fair enough," Trowa replied.

He produced a copy of Midii Une's badge and identicard for the Preventors and showed it to the two of them.

"She's my partner now," Trowa said.

The two boys exchanged a weighted speaking-look with one another. They knew about Midii Une's divided loyalties and were wondering of Trowa did as well.

"Come, Duo and I must still arrange for your older brother Alexander, we have much more to do," Trowa said leaving Duo to wrap up last minute instructions with the Headmaster as he herded the two younger Une boys quietly out to the waiting van.

The elder Une boy was even more suspicious than his younger brother had been; but he was older and had been around longer. It took a while to convince him that they were on the level but at last Duo and Trowa had all three of the brothers Une out in the Van and on their way to the safe house.

Trowa called to check in with Lady Une while they were at the "safehouse" before he proceeded to make off with Papa Une. Plans for the missions were running smoothly, the sniper teams were in place, the field teams to cover the weapons bases were assembled at their respective locations, Wufei was coordinating those teams manning the Alliance weapons bases and Sally was monitoring the dummy system she had put in place to make certain that Midii did not catch on to the deception and try to hack her way past the dummy system and regain control of the real thing (which would be bad because if she did and the missiles went off headed toward various Consortium strongholds currently being infiltrated by the Preventors things could get really messy). Relena had lodged a letter of protest about her bodyguard which had been promptly dismissed. Trowa imagined his friend was feeling pretty good about that right now.

It worried him that there was no one to monitor Midii right then at a crucial time when she might need monitoring but her had his hands full wrapping up this particularly important loose end before the balloon went up later; besides, he wasn't certain he liked the idea of another man monitoring her. In observation it was easy for the line between job-related surveillance and peeping tom to become blurred, or taken advantage of. It would be best to hurry and complete this mission as quickly as possible not only because rescuing her father would be a load off the minds of everyone involved, but also so that he could return in time for the real fun to begin.

Wow, it looks like more people remember this story than I thought, so I decided to post the next chapter. Thanks to everyone who decided to drop me a line, your encouragement is very much appreciated.

Nightheart


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